Snow White: An Unexpected Journey
by Toa Aerrow
Summary: In a castle on the cliffs of Shireland there lives a little princess. Working as a scullery maid for her stepmother, the Queen, she never expected her life to change. she just expected a normal life as a maid working for the monarch of her kingdom. Then, one day, she was approached by the most unlikely creature imaginable: A wizard. A wizard asking her to share in an adventure.
1. Prologue: The Coming of the Dragon

**Hello, readers! I'm Toa Aerrow, and welcome to Part 1 of Snow White and the Thirteen Dwarves!**

**This is an idea that I've thought of that I'm extremely surprised no one else on has thought of doing. This is a PlotFusion crossover of Disney's first animated feature and Peter Jackson's excellent adaption of J.R.R. Tolkien's first novel.**

**I have a lot of things to tell you, but you might as well read them for yourself, so, without further ado:**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**Toa Aerrow Presents**

**Based on Peter Jackson's ****The Hobbit**

**And Disney's ****Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs**

**SNOW WHITE**

**Prologue: The Coming of the Dragon**

_My dear Rosie._

The old woman struck her match against the matchbox, lighting it, and lowered it towards her candle, sitting on its candle tray. Once lit, the wick glowed brightly, bathing the cobblestone walls of her bedroom in amber light.

_You asked me once if I'd told you everything there was to know about my adventures._

Picking up her light source, she walked out of the room in her dressing gown. She entered a corridor, on the walls of which were paintings, depicting many things, from vicious battles to portraits.

Exiting through a door on the left, she found herself in a small-ish room at the side of her home. This room had a warmer feeling than the bedroom, plated with oak wood planks. On one side was a desk, with a wooden board sitting at a slight angle to it, with a bottle of ink, a quill, and small clock and parchment sitting beside it. Glancing briefly at the window above her desk, she saw beyond it the green fields of her land beyond. But gazing out wasn't why she was here. Instead she walked to the right, coming up to an old wooden chest.

_And while I can honestly say I've told you the truth, I may not have told you all of it._

Opening the chest with one hand, she started to reach in, but paused as she saw the contents. Sitting on top of scrolls and maps was an elven sword, sitting in its scabbard. It didn't look like much from outside, but she knew better. That sword meant Gondolin to her, and it had saved her life on many an occasion.

Snapping out of her trance, she stopped reaching for it and instead pulled out something else from underneath it. A big, red leather book, as blank as if it were new, with the initials S.W. in dwarven lettering at the bottom. She smiled and tucked it under her spare arm and, without closing the chest, walked over to the desk and sat down, placing the book on the board.

She opened it, and, for the second time that dawn, her breath caught in her throat. She'd forgotten it was there. For sitting, flat against the paper on the first page, was the portrait of a young girl. She had a very pretty face, with round cheeks, a triangular chin, and large, cute eyes. She had thin eyebrows, thick lips, and a small nose. Her hair was thick and wavy, stopping just short of neck length, and topped with a ribbon-bound bow.

That was her.

_I'm old now, Rose. I'm not the same woman I once was._

The old woman smiled. She'd forgotten how pretty she once wa—No. She shooed those thoughts from her mind. It was someone thinking like that that threw her into the story to begin with. Just because of one lady's vanity, another's life was changed forever.

Turning to page two, she picked up her quill, dipped it into the ink, and hovered it over her paper. She wrote a little author's note, addressed to her great granddaughter, then moved to the third page. She looked out the window again, thinking of how to begin.

_I think it is time for you to know what really happened._

Her mind made up, she placed her quill to the paper, and began to write.

_It began long ago, in a land far way to the east, the like of which you will not find in the world today._

_There was the city of Dale, its markets known far and wide, full of the bounties of vine and vale, peaceful and prosperous._

_For this city lay before the doors of the greatest kingdom in Middle Earth:_

_Erebor. Stronghold of Thror, King under the mountain, mightiest of the dwarf lords._

_Thror ruled with utter surety, never doubting his house would endure, for his line lay secure in the lives of his son and grandson._

_Ah… Erebor, Rosie._

_Built deep within the mountain itself, the beauty of this fortress-city was legend._

_Its wealth lay in the earth, in precious gems hewn from rock, and in great seams of gold, running like rivers through stone. _

_The skill of the dwarves was unequalled, fashioning objects of great beauty out diamond, emerald, ruby and sapphire._

_Ever they delved deeper, down into the dark._

_And that is where they found it. The heart of the mountain._

_The Arkenstone._

_Thror named it the King's jewel. He took it as a sign, a sign that his right to rule was divine._

_All would pay homage to him, even the great Elven King, Thranduil._

_But the years of peace and plenty were not to last. Slowly the days turned sour, and the watchful nights closed in._

_Thror's love of gold had grown too fierce. A sickness had begun to grow within. It was a sickness of the mind. And where sickness thrives, bad things will follow._

* * *

Dragon-shaped kites flew in the wind, on a hot summer's day in Dale, a hundred and twenty years before. Children, with their parents, watched the paper creatures fly in wonder, imagining just what it must be like up there.

The children paid no mind, but all adults in the town turned, confused, when they all began to hear a loud noise, greater than the high wind already blowing.

_The first they heard was a noise like a hurricane coming down from the north. The pines on the mountain creaked and cracked in the hot, dry wind._

Meanwhile, a kilometre or two north, the dwarven guards stood dutifully on the gates of Erebor, watching for anything that could pose a threat to them or Dale, their mutual allies and friends.

Amongst them walked one such dwarf. He had a round face, with a bulbous nose, thick, bushy eyebrows, and long bushy, grey-brown hair and beard. He looked around, confused at the now roaring wind, watching in alarm even as huge pines on the mountain cracked in two and fell off.

Guards began to run past, led by another dwarf, of whom everyone knew personally. For this one was royalty. With black, wavy hair, a short beard woven into a plait which was held by a small clasp, the dwarf's oval face was one that even dwarf males would find handsome. This was Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, prince under the mountain. All looked up to him, only looking further to his father and grandfather.

But now the young dwarf's eyes were filled with worry. He almost barrelled into the older dwarf as he ran past, turning to him as he realised who he was.

"Balin, sound the alarm!" he ordered, worry in his voice.

The wind picked up again, a gust mashing into the gates. Thorin and the other dwarf, Balin, ducked as a flag broke loose, sailing over their heads into the fortress.

"Call out the guard, do it now!" he yelled again.

"What is it?" Balin asked him, though he feared what the answer might be if even Thorin was scared.

The dwarf prince turned to his friend, and spoke the one word they had all been dreading in recent years.

"Dragon." He said.

Another gust blew, and the temperature of the air rose to searing degrees. Thorin's worried eyes grew wide, now with downright fear, and he turned back and yelled down to the dwarves and she-dwarves assembled in the courtyard.

"DRAGON!"

Balin turned to look back beyond the battlements just in time to see a fully-grown pine tree sail through the air away from the mountain, and saw, to his fear, that the whole thing was alight with flame.

_He was a Fire Drake from the north._

Balin backed up as he saw a great beast come roaring into view. It glared down at the battlements, then decided to sterilize it quickly. And that meant with a blast of flame.

Just in time, Thorin ran back out onto the gate and grabbed the old dwarf, dragging him behind a pillar as fire streamed from the Fire Drake's mouth.

_Smaug had come._

The children were startled as their dragon kites were scorched by flame, signalling the arrival of Smaug. The fire burned towards them, and they knew no more.

The dragon attacked the city of Dale, smashing its gates with one blast of fire, destroying its watch towers with one swipe of his claw. He pillaged the city, burning everything and everyone in it, out of nothing but a desire to cause harm. People, men and women, ran in fear, avoiding flames and rubble, but it was for nothing, as almost every one of them was destroyed. Some escaped. Very few. The rest, burned or crushed in the city of Dale. One of the last was a young girl, cowering as she watched her doll burn.

But one man stood up amongst the rest. He was Girion, Lord of Dale, and he would protect those who were left with his life. As townsfolk fled, he grabbed off of the weapons stand three black arrows, designed to pierce the tough hide of a dragon. Standing upon the last watchtower, he armed the arrows into a Dwarvish Windlance, and fired at the dragon. The first shot missed, as did the second. And then, as all hope fled, his last arrow struck the dragon. But it did no good. Smaug bathed the watchtower in his breath, and Girion, Lord of Dale, was no more.

The dragon smirked, satisfied with his work, then turned and flew back to his original destination.

_Such wanton death was dealt that day, for this city of men was nothing to Smaug._

_His eye was set on anther prize._

Thorin lead the Dwarf Guard as fire blasted the outside of the gate. The doors warped and bent inward from the force of the blast, letting flames flicker into the mountain.

_For dragons covet gold with a dark and fierce desire._

As the guard built up at the gates, the sick and gold-corrupted King under the mountain, Thror, ran as fast as his old legs could carry him to the throne. Above the stone-built chair, fixed into the column behind it, was the precious jewel, the white gem known as the Arkenstone. Thror pressed a button below it, and caught the gem as it fell from its position, holding it close as he turned to look to the army opposing the dragon.

The gates shattered, and the dwarves saw the Fire Drake looming over the mountain, landing on the bridge outside. Thorin shouted orders at the guard as the dragon finally smashed his way in. The dragon shattered the rock above the destroyed gate, sending fire and stone down onto the assembled dwarves. They scattered and ran as the dragon stomped through the newly enlarged opening, stomping on dwarf troops, throwing dwarves at the walls, not caring if any were left alive.

Thorin ducked and rolled out of the way as the dragon stepped down, narrowly avoiding being crushed by the massive foot of the dragon.

Thror ran down to the hall of gold, hoping to get there and claim at least some of his gold before the dragon got there. But it was too late. As he entered the room, Smaug leapt out at him, golden coins flying everywhere, and the King himself stumbled as the ground shook from the heavy lumbering of dragon and gold combined.

Then the King watched in horror as the Arkenstone slipped from his grasp.

"NO!"

He reached for it, but the white gem sank into the churning sea of gold coins.

Enraged, Thror stood up, determined to run in after the heart of the mountain at all costs.

Then Thorin, running in from the destroyed would-be battlefield of the former courtyard, grabbed his grandfather before he could make a drastic action. Stepping backwards as the dragon roared and slashed again, sending even more gold flying, he held his sword up to the dragon, stepping out of the room with his King and grandfather in his arms.

_Erebor was lost._

All dwarves, male and female, who were left, ran as fast as they could out the broken entrance to the mountain and across the bridge. They fled down the road, hoping to get as far from the mountain, their former home, as they could. Thror threw dwarves who attempted to help him off him, furious at Thorin and the dragon. Thorin himself helped his father, Thrain, who had been injured in the struggle, as he made his way out.

_For a dragon will guard his plunder as long as he lives._

Thorin finally let go of Thrain as his father waved him off, and began pleading and ordering his people to run.

Then, as he looked up to the hills beyond, to the west that lead to the Greenwood, an army finally arrived. They were Wood Elves, led by Elven King Thranduil, King of the Woodland Realm. He ordered his army to stop, and looked down at the fleeing dwarves.

"HELP US!" Thorin yelled to them, waving for Thranduil's attention.

Thranduil turned his attention to the dwarf prince, then crooked his head to one side, as if considering his request. But finally, in the end, the Elven King turned and left, ordering his elves to follow him back to the Greenwood. They didn't even offer the dwarves shelter.

_Thranduil would not risk the lives of his kin against the wroth of the dragon._

_No help came from the elves that day…_

Thorin glared in fury up at where the elves had been mere moments before. The elves had just left them. Abandoned them to the wild. In the dwarf prince's mind, they'd just declared war on his people, and he would never, ever, forgive them.

_…__nor any day since._

_Robbed of their homeland, the dwarves of Erebor wondered the wilderness. A once mighty people wrought low._

_The young dwarf prince took work where he could find it, labouring in the villages of men._

_But always he remembered the mountain smoke beneath the moon, the trees like torches blazing bright, for he had seen dragon fire in the sky, and a city turn to ash._

_And he never forgave, and he never forgot._

* * *

One hundred and forty-two years later, the old woman looked up from her writing to the window again. She smiled. The dawn was over, and the sun had rose high above the horizon. Turning to look at the clock on the desk, she saw it was eight o'clock in the morning, and she smiled as she remembered Rosie would be waking up around now. She always was a night owl. Shaking her head, she turned her quill back to the book and wrote again, trailing the last vestiges of ink from the tip.

_That, my dear Rosie, is where I come in._

_For by the jealousy of a queen, and the will of a wizard, fate decided I would become a part of this tale._

_It began… well, it began quite as you might expect:_

The woman stopped herself and thought for a moment. No, she couldn't start it like that. Too many stories started with that line. It was used for almost every fairy-tale she'd ever read.

But then she smiled. After all, this was, itself, a fairy-tale.

So she turned to a new page in her book, dipped her quill back into the ink, then set it back to paper and began to write.

_Once upon a time there lived a King and a Queen. They were of the benevolent sort, loved by their people, and caring of all. They lived in a castle in Eriador, ruling over the kingdom of Shireland in the western lands of Middle Earth, safe upon the high cliffs before the shore. They were safe, and they were happy. There was only one thing missing: an heir._

_One winter's night, the Queen looked up into the sky from her favourite balcony, and watched as a shooting star flew ahead. Upon that star she wished, she wished for a daughter, a girl with hair as black as the night where the star flew, lips as red as the blood flowing through her veins, and skin as white as the snow upon the rooftops._

_Nine months passed, and the Queen grew pregnant. They were both overjoyed at the news. But the stronger the baby grew, the weaker the Queen became. Then, one day, the baby came, and the Queen died. Looking down at his daughter, the King saw his wife's wish come true, and, in her honour, named the little princess Snow White._

_The King remarried after a few years, enchanted by a beautiful woman who appeared in town one day. Vellatrice. Little did he know that the enchantment was literal. The woman poisoned his mind, corrupting him, entrancing him with her potions, and eventually, marrying him._

_Then, all of a sudden, and to everyone's surprise, the King died. No one could figure out how or why. All everyone knew was that now Vellatrice was queen of Shireland, and she was, if anything, malevolent. She was a crueller queen than her deceased husband or the Queen before her, getting more out of her people than them._

_Vellatrice was vain as well as cruel. She wasn't so far as to be called narcissistic, but she was one of the most beautiful people in Middle Earth, and she knew it. Many times she spent in front of the magic mirror in her room, watching the face everyone looked up to._

_But there was one thing she feared. Being the stepmother of the princess Snow White, she saw and watched her grow every day, and every day she grew more and more adorable. At first she found it amusing, but then she began to fear. She feared that the little princess' beauty would one day surpass all others, including her own._

_In an attempt to forestall this, she dressed the princess in rags and forced her to work as one of the scullery maids of the castle, working in the kitchen and washing the steps every day, where she'd grow dirty with sweat and grime._

_Each day Queen Vellatrice consulted her magic mirror._

_"__Magic mirror on the wall, who is the fairest one of all?"_

_And as long as the mirror answered,_

_"__You are the fairest one of all."_

_Snow White was safe from the queen's cruel jealousy._

_So every day went by, the Queen checking with her mirror, then getting on with her duties to the kingdom, as well as ruling over it. Meanwhile Snow White grew into her job as a maid, working with the job as she grew older and older. As she grew, her beauty greatened, as did her mind._

_She became good friends with the other maids of the castle, especially Elanor, a girl her age, with whom she joined in a friendship that would last all their lives. Sometimes, if they ever got free time, the two of them would walk down to the village nearby and watch the birds dancing in the air, flying around the castle, roosting in their nests._

_Snow White, while she loved it as much as Elanor, knew when enough was enough and they had to return to the castle. Elanor, however, would always spend a few minutes extra down there. Sometimes she spent so much time that Queen Vellatrice herself would come down to the village, drag her sorry hide back to the castle and scold her for being late to return._

_She didn't approve of being late._

_Not that Snow White ever was. In those days she was always on time._

_She was entirely respectable in her job as a scullery maid…_

_And nothing unexpected ever happened._

* * *

**So, yeah, there we go!**

**I'll probably not do another chapter in a while, as I'm going to be working on my other current story, The Terribles, but rest assured that I WILL go along with this one, my very first fairy-tale.**

**So yeah, I went all-out to create my own backstory for Snow, gave her stepmother a name, invented a character that'll only have a few brief appearances who's named after both Samwise Gamgee's daughter and my sister, and began a story that, I at least, will find most entertaining, and I hope you will too.**

**So, until next time, cheerio!**

**Next Time: Chapter 1: The Princess Maid**


	2. Chapter 1: The Princess Maid

**So, yeah, back again. I still haven't finished ****The Terribles****, but 've had this thing mstly written for months, and I'm once again finding it a bit hard to write that story. I've decided I'll be working on these two in turns, with Ch1 of this, then Ch16 of that, and once I've finished ****The Terribles**** I'll begin a new story called ****Big Hero Glitch****!**

**Anyway, before I start this chapter, I must note that Snow White is going to be quite a different character to in her Disney film. I can't really describe what her personality will be like, so you might as well read it and find out for yourself!**

**This chapter introduces properly the Queen, Snow, Elanor and Gandalf, and begins the story that we all know and love from ****The Hobbit**** trilogy.**

**AN UNEXPECTED JOURNEY**

**Chapter 1: The Princess Maid**

Eighty-two years earlier, a woman of forty years stood in the middle of the cobblestone bedroom of the castle. She was five and a half feet tall, with dirty brown hair hidden by her cape, which came together in a tight hood that encircled her face, and was held together by a golden clasp and a white crest at the back. She had emerald green eyes, thin, yet bold eyebrows and lavender eyeliner. She wore a deep purple one-piece dress that covered her body and legs, with great big sleeves that hung from her arms.

Her name was Vellatrice, and she was the queen of Shireland.

She walked up the stone steps to her magic mirror, ready for her daily check-up. She did this every morning for the last fourteen years since she became queen, so much that it had become a routine even before her fear of her stepdaughter kicked in when the girl was eight.

Standing in front of the mirror, she spoke her chant:

"Magic mirror on the wall, who is the fairest one of all?"

The dark mirror reflected her image for a moment, then the image faded, replaced with a swirling vortex. That too faded to black, leaving nothing but a dark grey face, its empty staring blankly at the Queen. The face's mouth opened, and it began to speak in rhymes.

"In all my years serving you, there has never been one fairer than thee. But alas, I see now from the gloom, one maid has risen above you, my queen."

The Queen sighed at this news.

"Very well." She replied to the mirror. "If there is one who is fairer than me, speak her name, and we shall see."

The mirror seemed to frown before speaking again.

"Lips red as blood, hair black as night, skin white as snow, the one they call 'Snow White'."

She gasped. Her greatest fear had come true. Her stepdaughter, the one she feared would become prettier than her, had indeed surpassed her in beauty.

"How is that possible? I dressed her in rags! I set her to work! She washes the stairs, getting covered in dirt!" she spoke, unintentionally speaking in rhymes. "There is no way she could become the fairest of all! Speak the truth, you mirror on the wall!" **[1]**

"As much as you wish it was not," the mirror answered. ", no rags can hide her beauty. She is fairest of them all, beyond her job and duty."

"Enough!" Vellatrice shouted. "Leave me!"

And with that, the face in the mirror faded, returning to reflecting the image of the room, and the horrified queen.

The Queen kicked a wooden chair from its position, seething with fury. She would not allow that dirty excuse for a princess to be prettier than her! Something must be done about her.

Walking to the window, she looked out, spying the short, eighteen year old girl in the yard as she washed the stairs, humming to herself as she did, scrubbing hard with an old rag, not dissimilar to the ones in the skirt she wore.

The Queen smiled maliciously. Yes, something had to be done. And it will.

* * *

Snow White paused in her humming for a moment and wiped a band of sweat off her brow. Most would find it odd the be sweating on a cold day in late November, but when you've been spending the whole morning on your knees, rubbing a cloth back and forth across the large stone steps at the front of the biggest castle west of the Misty Mountains, you get very hot, very quickly.

The young, eighteen year old girl was very short compared to all the other girls her age, just under four feet tall, and had a very pretty face, with round cheeks, a triangular chin, and large, cute, hazel coloured eyes. She had thin eyebrows, thick, blood red lips, and a small nose. Her hair was thick, wavy, and pitch black, stopping just short of neck length. Her skin was white, much more so than most, but still looked very healthy. **[2]**

She wore a simple outfit, one worn by all the scullery maids of the castle. It was a simple, white, short-sleeved shirt, a comfortable brown corset and a dress made from various old rags stitched together by one of the cloth makers in the village.

She looked up to the great clock that hung above the great doors at the front of the castle. 9:30. She HAD been going at this for three whole hours already, having started right after breakfast. No wonder she was sweating.

Looking back down at her work, she was pleased and relieved to see that the stairs finally shone and sparkled in the autumn sunlight. All thirty bricks that made up the total of six steps were completely clean. Luckily it wasn't a job that needed to be done every day, or she'd've died from exhaustion a long time ago.

She stood up and stretched out the kinks in her back, before picking up her ragged cloth and bucket and walking towards the cobblestone well which sat a few metres away, returning to humming the little tune of hers.

She looked down at the well and sighed. The well was filthy, every square centimetre of rock completely covered in grime and dirt. Looking inside the well, she saw that muck had crumbled off the sides and into the water she'd been using to wash the steps. It was amazing she hadn't just made them even more dirty by trying to clean them!

So she dropped her bucket on the ground, dipped her cloth in to soak it, and began scrubbing the cleaved rock of the well. Just another job in her line of work.

That is what she and the other scullery maids did. All day, every day, doing the chores to keep the castle clean, dry and tidy, and the queen herself well fed. The feeding part wasn't that difficult, just making sure to buy the right foods from the markets in the village near the castle, cooking them properly three times a day and setting them at the table for the monarch.

The rest of the chores, though, were the ones that kept them all busy.

The castle was large, with many spires and towers rising high above the roughly cubic building. The roof of every part was paved in red tiles, contrasting with the white stone walls. The castle had many rooms, including a dining room, a kitchen, a separate pantry, the Queen's bedroom, spare bedrooms (mostly used up by the maids), the towers and their helical staircases, three bathrooms spread across the large building, a meeting hall, two study rooms, a stable, a medical wing, and, of course, a dungeon.

Although the only residents were the maids and the Queen herself, every room needed frequent cleaning. Seven of the ten maids, every morning, would grab dusters, mops and brooms, and spend their time keeping the building spotless. The other three would work in the kitchen, waking early to prepare breakfast for the Queen, and of course lunch and dinner for her, while all the maids were skilled enough to prepare meals for themselves separately.

It was a difficult life, especially under Vellatrice, but survivable, and that's what counts. All the maids did each and every job, and were sometimes given an hour or two off a day to go down to the village, besides the usual allotted time to buy ingredients for the kitchen. If a job wasn't adequately done, or someone stayed for too long in the village (Elanor), they'd get punished, usually by being banned from the kitchen, and therefore food, for a day.

But the one who had it worst was Snow. Queen Vellatrice always gave her the hard, dirtying chores, the tough cleaning duties that required getting down on her knees and scrubbing, or worse, the bathrooms. She was still given time off, but less than the others, around four hours a week. What's more, if she was late, which she never was, the Queen had threatened to send her to the dungeons for punishment.

The way the Queen was treating her, you'd never know who she really was. She was, in fact, the crown (and only) princess of Shireland. Buy only she the Queen knew that. The monarch had made it impossible to tell that she was the princess. Everyone thought that there was no princess, that she'd vanished ten years ago. Even Elanor was unaware of her friend's birth-right.

Surprisingly, Snow was okay with that. She knew that, so long as Queen Vellatrice reigned, she'd remain in her tough job her whole life. But it was a stable job. It was always there, which meant nothing unexpected. She hated unexpected. Unexpected meant complications for the Queen, and therefore the maids, and therefore her.

Okay, so that reasoning was circular, but that didn't change a thing for the girl. From her point of view, life was good. Difficult, but good.

The sound of slow footsteps, joined with the clunk of wood on stone, broke her from her thoughts. She payed the sound no mind, going back to washing the well. She was slightly nerved, though, as the sound got louder and louder, as if the person making it was getting closer and closer, before it suddenly stopped. She ignored it and kept scrubbing, moving onto the next cobblestone.

Then she heard the sound of a throat clearing nearby, right on the other side of the well in fact, as if trying to draw her attention. Unexpected, and therefore complicated.

Pausing in her humming, she looked up to see, standing over the well opposite her, a tall, old man. He had a large nose, a long, scruffy grey beard, and wore on his head a large, pointed, blue-grey hat. His dress was of a similar colour, a long, grey cloak with sleeves that drooped so low from his arms that they almost reached the ground. On his right hand he held an odd walking stick, with a strange, root-like structure on the top of it, and an odd bent nail pointing out of the bottom.

But the strangest things about him were his eyes. They were polished grey, almost silver, in colour, and looked as if they could see straight into her soul.

The man was smiling down at her, slightly amused. Not wanting to be rude, she smiled back.

"Good morning, sir." She greeted simply and politely before looking back down to her work.

"What do you mean?" he answered.

She looked up from the well at the man, confused.

"Do you mean to wish me a good morning, or are you saying it IS a good morning whether I want it or not?" he clarified. "Or are you saying you feel good on this particular morning? Or are you simply stating this is a morning to be good on?"

Snow smiled a bit at the man's attitude. He must be have a good day if he was making a joke like that.

"Mostly the first," she answered. "But, I suppose, all of them at once."

The old man's own smile faded slightly, but she paid no mind and returned to washing the well.

People of all sorts were not uncommon at the castle. Villagers and traders would come from the village to consult with the Queen. The royal guard travelled about the closer parts of the kingdom, and so could often be seen around the front of the castle.

Most of them though, in fact ALL of them, usually were there to talk to the queen, not the maids.

Let alone HER.

Villagers didn't just TALK to the maids. They were the staff of the castle, to be ordered around and often times ignored. The only resident of the castle people would want to talk to, if they DID want to talk to anyone from the place anyway, would be the queen. Someone talking to a maid, especially Snow herself, was unexpected, and therefore complicated.

The man cleared his throat again, and she looked up again to see the old man still standing there, with the same slight frown on his face.

"I'm sorry, sir," She said politely, kneeling up straighter. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"That remains to be seen." He muttered more to himself than her. Then he spoke out loud.

"I'm looking for someone to share in an adventure."

Her jaw dropped open. She hadn't heard of someone ever walking around the village asking for adventurers. Ever. Even less of asking a maid to do so.

"An adventure? I'm not sure if there are any adventurers around here." She said finally. "I suppose you could go down to the stables, perhaps find the captain of the guard, but apart from that, I'm not sure there is anyone west of Bree who'd want to go on an adventure."

"And what about you?" he inquired.

She let out a small laugh.

"Me? I'm a maid! You can't possibly be serious!"

Although when she looked back up at him, he was still frowning.

"You're serious?"

Her smile drooped, and she started fidgeting with her sleeve.

"I-I'm not sure I'm the right person to be asking to join in an adventure." She said. "I'm just a maid to the Queen! I'm just good at cooking and cleaning. Certainly not adventurer material."

She swiped her cloth at the cobblestone well once more and stood back to see the now clean surface. Then she picked up her bucket and turned to the old man.

"Good morning, sir, but I must be getting on with my chores."

And with that, she curtsied and turned to walk back up the stairs.

The old man, meanwhile began to chuckle to himself.

"To think that I should have lived to be 'good morning'ed by Belladonna's daughter!" he laughed to himself, clearly amused by something. **[3]**

Snow stopped in her tracks. Belladonna. The previous Queen. Her MOTHER. Her mother, who had passed away as she was born.

She turned on the spot to stare at the old man, surprise on her face.

"I'm sorry?" she said.

"You've changed much, Snow White," he told her, smiling. "Although, not entirely for the better."

Snow stepped down the steps and looked closely at the old man, who towered over her on level ground. Something struck him as being slightly familiar to her, but she couldn't quite place it.

"Do I know you?" she muttered.

"Well, you know my name," he replied. ", although you don't seem to remember I belong to it. I am Gandalf, and Gandalf means me. The wizard of the west, as some have called me."

She thought for a minute. She knew that name was familiar, as was the old man, and together they brought back a fond memory.

"Gandalf!? Gandalf the Grey!?" she realised, turning to face him, smiling. "Gandalf the wondering wizard who made such excellent fireworks!?"

"Well…" the humble wizard nodded to the praise.

"The king used to have them every year on midsummer's eve!"

She sighed at the memory, of when she was only four, the last time the fireworks had been on. The sky had lit up with glorious colours, and villagers had danced in the field. And, of course, the man behind it, old, grey-bearded and wrapped in a grey-blue cloak. This man. Gandalf the Grey.

Then her smile faded as she remembered what had happened a few months later. To her father.

"I take it you found business elsewhere?" she asked Gandalf, returning to the present.

"Well, what else would I do?" he asked her back.

She nodded understandingly. Gandalf sighed at the girl, his own smile fading, if only slightly.

"Well, I'm glad you at least remember SOMETHING about me." He muttered, more to himself than her. "Even if it's only my fireworks."

"Well, that's decided." He spoke out loud. "It'll be very good for you!" he pointed to her. "And most amusing for me. I shall inform the others."

Then he turned and began to walk away, only to be stopped by Snow speaking out in objection.

"Othe—No! I can't go on an adventure! I'm a maid!" she protested, walking backwards toward the steps. "I have a duty to the Queen! I can't just go running off on an adventure!"

The wizard turned and frowned at her.

"I-I'm not skilled or trained for this! I suggest you go down to Bree, I'm sure there are plenty of people there who would be absolutely delighted to go with you!"

Gandalf continued to stare at her. She shook her head and turned away, turning back him one last time to say 'good morning' again before running back up the steps to the huge doors at the front of the castle.

She shut the doors and slammed herself against them, holding them shut. The noise startled the few maids that were in the entrance hall, including her good friend, Elanor.

Elanor was her age, though she was a foot and a half taller, which made Snow look like a child in comparison. Elanor had shoulder-length curly brown hair, with a round chin and high cheeks. Her green eyes always glowed with cheerfulness, and her dark lips were contorted in a smile. She was happy almost all the time, even as she and Snow worked on some of the hardest chores in the castle. Right now, though, her face showed surprise at the slamming noise that had just rung through her ears.

"Snow!" she exclaimed, running to the girl from her position in the doorway to the kitchen. "What are you doing?"

"Huh? What?"

"Who's out there?"

"Oh!" Snow said. "N-no one, just some adventurer."

Then the door rattled a bit, then pressed inwards slightly, prompting Snow to push herself back against them again.

Unbeknownst to any of them, Gandalf stood with his staff in hand, pointing the bent nail at the bottom at the door. With the nail he scratched into to wood, thinking an enchantment as he did, making a magical glowing mark, the symbol of Gandalf, on the wooden door of the castle.

Then, all of a sudden, the pressure stopped, leaving just Snow leaning against the doors, Elanor watching with confusion, and the other maids in the room to go about their business. Snow gingerly stepped away from the doors, turning as she did, waiting for something to happen.

Nothing did. All the two girls heard was the sound of footsteps moving away from the doors, drifting slowly quieter.

Snow turned around, now facing her friend, who was staring at her with a questioning, and slightly concerned, look.

"Are you alright, Snow?" she asked her.

Snow said nothing. She WAS a bit shocked and surprised at the whole thing. Gandalf the grey, asking HER on an adventure? It was ridiculous, really.

She just shrugged her shoulders and walked past Elanor through the entrance hall of the castle, flushing those thoughts from her mind. It didn't mean anything. Gandalf would find another adventurer, and her life would stay the same. Nothing more would happen.

Or so she thought.

* * *

**[1] You have no idea how much I love that that rhyme worked! Normally it would be silly to have rhymes, but that just wrote itself down and I loved it! It's still a bit silly, but It's okay I think, as the chant to activate the mirror is a rhyme, too.**

**[2] Okay, so I repeated the description I made of her from the prologue, with some modifications, but I think most professional writers would've done that, and it gave me an opportunity to mention her abnormal height, which is important for reasons I'll give in the AN of the next chapter. It'll also be explained later on.**

**[3] Belladonna's name comes from Belladonna Took, Bilbo's mother in the books and films. Just thought I'd use that.  
EDIT: Just realised my mistake of thinking Bolbo's mother was called Isabella. Whoops!**

**Just to let you all know, I'll be changing a few things about the world of Middle Earth, in particular the parts that are essential to ****The Lord of the Rings****, as I won't be doing that. I'll reveal the changes as they appear.**

**Next Time: Chapter 2: Arrival of the Dwarves**


	3. Chapter 2: Arrival of the Dwarves

**LadyBlackroseMusketeer: Thank you so much!**

**Seanchow806Napoleonic: Right now!**

**So, anywho, ado!**

**Chapter 2: Arrival of the Dwarves**

Evening had fallen over Shireland, and the maids were, as usual, very busy. They continued the cleaning of the castle, keeping it squeaky clean, and then three of them cooked a meal for the queen.

By the point at which the other girls were finished in the kitchen, Snow had all but forgotten about Gandalf. Washing walls and stairs and floors all day was a tiring and mind consuming job, and often left her tumbling over her own thoughts.

When it came to meals in the castle, the Queen always came first. Three of the maids would cook her meal, at the same time as making their own, and then, once the Queen had retired for the day, the other maids would, three at a time, head into the room and cook their own meals. The next group would always be hungrier than the last, for as the Queen always had her meal at 7:00, this made the girls' meals later and later.

Snow was never allowed to make the Queen's meals. Why, she was not so sure. She was also always forced to wait until the last three girls had finished before making her own meal. That, along with the fact that she had been limited to two meals a day by the Queen, meant that she was much skinnier than she should've been.

It was half past nine when the last three maids had finally finished their meals, by which point Snow was practically starving. She waited and watched at the doorway to the dining room as the three stood up and carried their plates past her. Elanor was among them, and she smiled at Snow as she walked past.

As they washed their cutlery and crockery in the kitchen, Snow waited patiently outside until they finished. Then at last they left, and Snow walked past them in to cook her own meal.

But before she could even grab a pan…

"White! Don't forget to clean up your mess!"

Snow beat down the compulsion to roll her eyes.

She turned to look through the doorway to the source. It was Lobelia, the eldest, tallest, and most arrogant of all ten of the maids. She considered herself the top girl of them, practically lording over all of them when the Queen herself wasn't present. And, considering Snow was the shortest and thinnest of all of them, that made her the most subject to her teasing. **[1]**

"I always clean up." She replied simply, remaining stoic in front of the other girl.

"That's not what I see!" Lobelia teased before walking up the stairs with the others in tow.

"Good night." Snow said, to Elanor specifically, as they disappeared past the wall of the helical staircase.

* * *

Thirty minutes later, Snow had finally finished her cooking. Using a pair of tongs, she pulled out of the pan on the stove a well-cooked fish. Plating it up, she had a pleasant smile on her face as she took it, and a knife and fork, and placed it on the table in the dining room. She pulled up a chair and sat down, then made final preparations, sprinkling a pinch of salt onto it, squeezing a halfway-cut lemon over it…

Knock, knock, knock!

Snow froze. Someone had knocked on the doors of the castle.

She frowned. There shouldn't be someone arriving at this hour. The other maids, if not the Queen herself, would've stayed up to meet them. And no one should be requesting an audience with the Queen at this hour, either. Everyone was asleep! The person knocking should've known this! Unless… unless it was urgent.

Unexpected, and therefore complicated.

Dropping the lemon, she stood up and hurried out into the entrance hall, wiping her lemon-juiced hand on her rags. Reaching the doors, she grabbed the hands of the left one and pulled it open. Then she froze in surprize once again.

Standing in front of the doors was a dwarf. He had a big nose, piercing blue eyes and thick, bushy eyebrows. His head was bald, not counting the greying beard that rose up to encircle his ears. He wore a traveling coat over a fur vest, and leather leggings held on by a large leather belt. Protecting his tattooed hands were steel knuckle busters that looked really uncomfortable. He was much taller than Snow, standing at nearly five feet tall, very tall for a dwarf.

He turned at the sound of the doors opening, and looked down at the girl with a stoic frown.

"Dwalin." He introduced himself, bowing low to her without breaking eye contact. "At your service."

"Uhh…"

Snow was frozen at the sight of the tough dwarf. However, after a few moments, she brought herself to answer him.

"S-Snow… White… at yours." She replied.

Dwalin grunted and walked into the hall, his movement triggering Snow to remember the late hour.

"H-have you requested an audience with the Queen?" she asked him.

The tall dwarf stopped and turned to look at her, with an expression that suggested that she'd grown two heads.

"No." he answered, as if it were obvious, before continuing into the entrance hall.

Snow stared after him, fear taking over her system. Not of the dwarf, but of the Queen.

If Dwalin wasn't here to talk with the Queen, then he didn't have her permission, so he was trespassing. As the only one awake at this hour, Snow was the one that would be blamed.

'_Oh, I am going to get in so much trouble._' She thought.

"Is it in here?" Dwalin suddenly asked from further down the hall, startling her.

"I-is what where?" she stuttered.

Dwalin turned and walked back to her.

"Supper!" he answered, throwing his cloak into her small arms before walking back the way he'd been going. "He said there'd be food! Lots of it!"

"H-he said?" she said as she stared after him. "Who said?"

She still didn't remember Gandalf from earlier.

* * *

Within seconds Dwalin had found the dining room and discovered the freshly cooked fish on the table. Snow watched apprehensively as the dwarf, still taller than her while sitting down, scoffed down the fish messily, than as he looked to its head, still left uneaten, naturally. Then, to her surprise, her crunched down on that too and swallowed, humming appreciatively.

"Very good, this!" he complimented. Then, "Anymore?"

Snow raised her eyebrows. More? The trespassing dwarf warrior wanted MORE?

"Uhh… yes, yes."

Thinking quickly, she stepped across the hall to the pantry and grabbed a jar of bread rolls before stepping back to Dwalin. She placed it in front of him, and watched as he shoved one whole into his mouth.

With that, she'd grown tired of watching the dwarf, the dwarf that wasn't supposed to be there, stuff his face mannerlessly with food from the royal pantry. Plus, she was getting hungry herself.

"I-it's just that…" she began to say. "If you're not here for an audience with the Queen, y-you're not supposed to be in here-"

Knock knock knock!

She started, and stared out the doorway in the direction the sound had come from.

'_What has that?_' her mind thought, though rationally she knew what it was.

"That'll be the door." Dwalin confirmed from his position at the table.

So she hurried over to the doors and opened them again to reveal another dwarf.

This one was shorter than her, only three-and-a-half feet. He had a round face, a bulbous nose, and thick, bushy eyebrows. His beard was long and almost pure white, and curled up in two halves at the end. He wore a red gown that was covered in dwarvish runes, and black gloves adorned his hands.

"Balin!" he announced to Snow as the doors opened. "At your service!"

He bowed his head and body, waving his arms out with friendliness.

This did nothing to calm Snow's growing nerves.

"Good evening." She said, swallowing.

Balin turned and looked out to the sky.

"Yes, yes it is!" he agreed before stepping through the doors. "'Though, I think it might rain later."

"Hmm?" Snow started. She had been simply greeting him, not stating the weather.

"Now, down to business." Balin said with a stoic frown as he stopped in front of her. "Am I late?"

Snow looked at him quizzically, though still nervously.

"L-late for what?"

Balin started to reply, then looked passed her at the sound of metal clinking against glass.

"Ho!" he shouted.

Snow turned to see the first dwarf. Dwalin seemed to be trying to get another bread roll out of the jar, though his knuckle busters prevented him from doing so. He looked up at Balin's shout, and smiled.

"Evening, brother!" Balin greeted and stepped towards Dwalin.

"By my beard!" Dwalin said, dropping the jar carefully onto a chest by the wall. "You've gotten shorter and wider since last we met!"

"Wider, not shorter." Balin replied, stopping in front of his brother. He leaned a bit closer and said mischievously, "Smart enough for both of us."

Both dwarves started chuckling.

Snow may not have had a sibling, and she had only seen ones down in the village briefly, but this is not how she expected brothers to behave. Dwalin teasing Balin, and Balin thoroughly enjoying it, was something she found odd.

"Ohh!" Dwalin sighed, still smiling, as the dwarves places their arms on each other's shoulders in a brotherly hug.

Then, suddenly, slammed their foreheads against each other, startling Snow. They continued chuckling.

Maybe it was just a dwarf thing.

"S-sorry," shy stuttered, trying to pull their attention to her problem. ", but I don't think you two should be inside the castle!"

But neither of them seemed to have heard her, for Dwalin began leading Balin toward the pantry. Snow followed them, and stopped outside the entrance as the two dwarves began picking through the royal pantry.

"Have you eaten?" Balin asked Dwalin.

'_They must think I'm just a complainer._' Snow realised. '_They don't know about the problem!_'

"I-it's not that I don't like visitors." She tried to get through to them. "I like visitors just as much as the next… maid. But unless they have requested or been granted an audience with the Queen, they just simply aren't welcome."

Though it still seemed they were ignoring her, for Balin began sniffing some blue cheese without turning his head. He turned away, repulsed, then showed it to Dwalin.

"What is it?" the taller brother asked, taking the cheese from Balin.

"I think it's supposed to be cheese." Balin stated, still repulsed. "It's gone blue."

"It's riddled with mould." Dwalin said, trying to give it a sniff.

"The thing is," Snow tried to continue. ", neither of you were invit—NO DON'T DO THAT!"

She exclaimed as Dwalin simply tossed the blue cheese over his shoulder out of the pantry. It splattered on the floor, leaving a blue smudge that Snow did NOT look forward to wiping up.

She groaned in growing frustration. Losing her patience, she put on the bravest face she could muster and turned back to the dwarves.

"I'm sorry, I must request the two of you leave this castle immediately." She ordered.

It was then that the dwarf brothers turned and acknowledged her. They were frowning, and Dwalin looked downright scary. But she stood her ground, kept her face, and cleared her throat.

Then Balin smiled.

"Apology accepted." He replied, then the two dwarves turned back to the tankard Dwalin was holding. "No, fill it up, brother! Don't stint!"

"B-but-" '_They didn't listen to what I just said!_'

Knock, knock, kn-knock, knock!

She turned her head again at the knocking, her heart sinking. She ran to the doors and opened them again, moaning as she was once again faced with, not one, but TWO dwarves waiting for entrance.

The one on the left had blond hair, woven together into braids down either side of his head, as was his rather short beard. He wore a leather vest that bulged at the seams, and she could see he wore two dwarf swords sheathed at his sides. He was of average dwarf height, four-and-a-half feet, as was the other dwarf beside him.

This one looked rather handsome to Snow. He had long, wavy, dark brown hair that flowed to his shoulders. His beard was very short cut, merely scruffy shading to his chin and upper lip. His eyes were dark, but glowed with both courage and youthfulness.

"Fili." The blond haired dwarf introduced himself.

"And Kili." The handsome other added.

"At your service!" They bowed together.

They both stood up, and Kili put on a charming smile. Snow began to feel a bit light-headed.

"You must be Miss Whote!"

Then she pulled herself together and tried to close the door on them.

"No, you can't come in, you haven't got permission!"

"What!" Kili exclaimed, blocking the door with his foot, looking concerned. "Has it been cancelled?"

"No one told us." Fili added.

Snow frowned and stopped forcing the door shut, genuinely confused. Cancelled? What's been cancelled? What was there to BE cancelled?

"Can—no, nothing's been cancelled-"

"Well, that's a relief!"

And without another word, Kili barged past her into the entrance hall. Fili followed, and she muttered "No!" under her breath that even more dwarves were in the castle.

She followed them through to try and convince them to leave, only for Fili to stop and turn to her, stopping her in her tracks.

"Careful with these." Fili warned her, unsheathing his two swords and handing them to her. "I just had 'em sharpened."

Then Fili reached inside his vest and pulled out a dwarf dagger. Then another, then another. Snow could only watch as blade after blade was placed in her arms, getting heavier and heavier.

"It's nice, this place!" Kili complimented the castle from somewhere nearby. "Did her majesty do it herself?"

'_Okay, so they're smart enough to know this is a royal residence. Why are they still trespassing!?_'

"N-no," Snow replied. "It's been in the family for years-"

She paused and mentally slapped herself. She'd just almost let slip her biggest secret to a bunch of strange dwarves! But that's not what made her stop. A scraping sound from nearby drew her attention, and she turned her head from the dwarf that was placing what seemed to be the last of his blades into her arms to see Kili scraping his boot against the chest by the wall, nearly kicking the jar of rolls that was still on it.

"That's the Queen's glory box, could you please not do that!" She was beginning to get really tired of these dwarves, and plus she was now REALLY hungry.

At that moment, to Snow's brief relief, Dwalin walked past her from the pantry and wrapped his arm around Kili's shoulders, then pulled away with him.

"Come on, lad!" he said, leading him towards the dining room.

"Mr Dwalin!" Kili greeted with a respectfully low voice.

And so Dwalin, Kili and Fili, followed by the over-laden Snow, walked into the dining room, where Balin was looking around between the table and the size of the room.

"Let's get this in the hall, or else we'll never get everyone in." Balin judged.

The other three dwarves acknowledged by reaching down to help him move the table. Snow, on the other hand, turned paler than she normally was, if that was possible, at what the old dwarf said.

"EVERYONE!?" she exclaimed. "How many MORE are there!?"

Knock knock knock!

She turned at the sound once again, shaking her head.

"Oh. Oh no." she muttered, gingerly beginning to step towards the doors. "No, there's NOBODY HOME!"

She knew for a fact that she was now losing it from hunger and stress, and could only hope in her mind that no one would be woken up by her shouting.

"Go away, and bother someone in the village!" she shouted, carelessly dropping Fili's weapons on the chest beside the jar of rolls. She continued in her path to the doors. "There are far too many dwarves in the Queen's dining room as it is! If this is some clot-head's idea of a joke to pull on a maid of the Queen of Shireland at this hour…"

She grabbed both door handles.

"Then I can only say, it is in very poor taste!" she finished, pulling the doors open as wide and hard as she could.

She froze, wide-eyed.

No less than EIGHT dwarves toppled through the doorway, falling down in a huge pile at Snow's feet. Her mind went into overload as it tried to process the thought of TWELVE dwarves trespassing in the castle, with HER as the only witness. If the Queen found out, a trip to the dungeons would be the least of her worries. For this, she would be punished beyond belief!

As the dwarves struggled to get up, she noticed someone else standing behind them. The grey cloak was unmistakeable. Looking upward, she saw the old face of Gandalf the Grey, gazing amusedly down at the pile of dwarves that had fallen through the doors. Noticing the girl for the first time, he turned to look at her, the same smile on his face.

It was only then that she remembered what Gandalf had said. He was going to tell 'the others'. She should have supposed 'others' must have meant twelve bloody dwarves!?

"Gandalf." She sighed in greeting.

Then she cringed as her stomach growled loudly.

"Oh, my dear girl!" Gandalf said. "Have you not yet eaten?"

* * *

**[1] Lobelia Sackville-Baggins! Thought I'd make a reference. I wanted someone who'd be beating down on Snow all the time that wasn't the queen, as it'd be nice for the end of the third book. She was going to be called Marris, but then I remembered Lobelia. So there you have it!**

**So, I had to split this chapter up. Originally, this would have covered the party, Thorin's arrival, and the meeting as well, but it ended up WAY too long. So I changed the title, and the next one will be the party.**

**I said I'd mention here the reason for Snow's short height. You see, firstly, I wanted Snow to be human, because could you believe that there's be a hobbit princess? However, if she's human, than she'd be taller than the dwarves, as she is in the Disney film. But that would defeat the point of the dwarves hiring Bilbo. As a hobbit, he was small, and could easily slip past Smaug. So I simply decided to make Snow a very small human. She will grow in her life to be as tall as most humans, though. I'll explain—No, Gandalf will explain in the chapter after next.**

**Next Time: Chapter 3: An Unexpected Party**


	4. Chapter 3: An Unexpected Party

**So, I've been a while. Trying to figure out a system for writing that'll work. So, yeah, updates will always be scarce with me, but at least they won't be forgotten.**

**Oh, BTW, a ~ before a line in italics means singing. It'll always follow either a group of a name in capitals and italics, which is the group or person singing.**

**Anyway, new chapter!**

**Chapter 3: An Unexpected Party**

If Snow had been able to properly focus, she'd notice that each of the many dwarves that had by this point invaded the castle were wearing fur and leather coats, leather gauntlets, and heavy fur-made boots. They also each had a very different to call their own, hammers, axes, swords and maces, all of dwarvish make, strapped to their belts or backs.

However, instead of noticing any of this, she was tired, hungry, and nearly hyperventilating with hysterics.

She watched from the great doors in horror as the twelve dwarves went back a forth from the royal pantry to the kitchens and back into the entrance hall, taking plate after plate with them. They scoured the royal pantry, taking anything and EVERYTHING edible from the shelves, and putting them on the long table that was now in the middle of the entrance hall. Without even caring for whether they knocked anything over or dropped anything!

Oh, the Queen was going to KILL her!

She tried complaining, she really did, but none of them would listen. They just kept going, taking everything from the pantry in sight.

"Hey, that's the chicken!" she shouted as a plate of chicken drumsticks was taken through the doorway.

She truly reacted when she spotted one trying to make away with a bottle.

"That's the Queen's personal wine!"

She reached out and tried to pull it out of his grasp, but he held tight, turning to face her. She looked up to glare at his face with all the bravery she could muster (not much), but then started when she saw him.

This dwarf a practical mane of shaggy black hair, greying at the beard, and a serious and stern expression on his face. But the thing that startled her was that he had an axe head imbedded in his skull. Her blood curdled at the sight of it.

Then he said something in a language she couldn't understand, and stomped off, pulling the wine bottle from her slackened grip. She stared after him.

"He has…"

Snow turned, startled again, to see another dwarf coming up to her. This one had very thick and knotted grey hair that made his ears invisible, with a beard and moustache braided on both sides into rings of hair at the ends.

"… an injury." He finished.

She started at him as if he'd grown two heads. An injury?

"You mean the axe in his head." She pointed out.

Suddenly he whipped something out his pocket and held it up to his ear. A hearing aid, she realised.

"Dead?" he asked, having misheard her. "No, only between the ears. His legs work fine."

He walked around her and back into the pantry and through the doorway into the kitchen without another word, still holing up the hearing aid.

Okay, so she'd by now decided that these dwarves were nuts.

That didn't excuse the fact that they were still stealing her queen's food!

"Put that back." She said again. "Put that back! Take the jam out of your pocket!"

The dwarf in question, who had his hair raised in three crests on his head, and a beard tied into three short braids, plus a nose that was smaller than those of most of the others, looked down at her sheepishly, his hand still in the offending pocket.

"Sorry." He said. "Habit."

The dwarf thief took it back out, and she made a grab for it, but he was already headed for the dining room. She groaned in frustration, then cringed as her stomach growled again as it had been since they'd all barged in.

Then yet another dwarf walked up to her. This one had his fiery red beard held in tufts with silvery metal clasps, and his hair encircled his head to such a point that his face appeared to be peering through the tangled red bush that was his hair. In one hand he held a piece of parchment strapped to thin wooden board, and in the other he held a quill, which he was using to write something down.

"I suppose we owe you fifty coins for this." He said to Snow.

Snow was dumbstruck, and her mind couldn't really process what he'd said.

"O-owe me? What-"

"Relax, Gloin!"

Yet ANOTHER dwarf walked up to them. He had a cheeky and mischievous look in his brown eyes, which certainly matched his fur hat, one that was so wide that the ends flopped down almost to his shoulders. His beard was much more lacking than most of the others, just a goatee and a long, curled moustache that dipped to chin-height. His hair was mostly obscured by the ridiculous-looking hat, though Snow could tell it was curly, and had two braids reaching down to his shoulders below the hat.

"It's a party!" This dwarf said, a relaxed expression on his face. "We get it for free!"

The first dwarf, Gloin, nodded and stuffed the utensils in his coat and walked off into the pantry after the second. Snow watched them go, slightly confused.

Then her eyes widened as a massive dwarf walked through the pantry door. His thick red hair barley covered up the folds of fat in his chin, and his clothes bulged outward with it. This hair was mostly wild, though tamed with a braid that circled down from either shoulder to rest at his huge stomach, and was split by a bald spot on the top of his head.

Oh, and this dwarf carried three whole blocks of cheese in his hands, staring at them with longing.

"Uh… a tad… excessive, don't you think?" Snow asked him as he walked past, forgetting the situation momentarily. "Do you have a cheese knife?"

"Cheese knife?"

She turned back to the pantry to see the funny-hat dwarf walking past again, this time carrying a bread board, a knife and a ham leg.

"He eats it by the block!" he told her.

She blanched at this, coupled with the unfortunate timing of her growling stomach, making her quite queasy.

"No! Put those back!" she suddenly shouted as she spotted Gloin and the dwarf with the bad hearing carrying a pair of chairs from the study at the end of the entrance hall.

As Snow hurried about, trying unsuccessfully to herd the dwarves out of the castle, Gandalf the Grey had joined in with setting up the table, carrying various cutlery in from the kitchen and placing them at a place for each of the dwarves, as well as himself and Snow.

He looked up when one particular dwarf asked his name. This dwarf had his grey beard and moustache trimmed short, and his hair braided intricately across his head. He was carrying a tray with a jug of tea and a few cups on it.

"Mr Gandalf?" he asked. "May I offer you a cup of camomile?"

"Oh, no I think, Dori." Gandalf politely refused. "A little red wine for me, thank you."

Gandalf moved past him as the dwarf began taking the tray back to the kitchen in slight dismay, and the wizard moved to stand in the middle of the hall, right between the entrances to the kitchen and the pantry, giving him a good overview of everything, as well as all twelve dwarves and the maid. As he spotted each of the dwarves, he listed them off on his fingers.

He spotted the younger, handsome dwarves.

"Fili, Kili,"

He spotted the one with the hearing aid and the accountant.

"Oin, Gloin,"

He spotted the older brothers.

"Dwalin, Balin,"

He spotted the injured one, and the funny hat one, and the fat one.

"Bifur, Bofur, Bombur,"

He spotted the polite one and the thief.

"Dori, Nori…"

Then he spotted the youngest one of them all. He had a very trimmed moustache, and short, straight, red hair, made into two braids on each side of his head, as well as two in his short beard. He was also trying to steal a plate of sliced beetroot from the befuddled and annoyed Snow White.

"ORI!" the wizard reprimanded.

The young dwarf shrunk under the scold and let go of the plate, walking away from a visibly more calm Snow.

"Thank you." The maid said. "At last SOMEONE's being polite."

"Now, now, Snow." Gandalf turned on her. "Don't be rude."

It was then that Bifur stopped and turned to him as he walked past, and said something in ancient dwarvish.

"Yes, you're quite right, Bifur." He answered as he walked off.

Snow looked up to him, silently asking him what Bifur said.

"We appear to be one dwarf short." He translated for her.

If it were possible, she turned even paler than normal at the thought of ANOTHER dwarf.

"He is late, is all." Dwalin told them from his position, leant against the wall with a tankard of ale in his hand. "He travelled north to a meeting with our kin. He will come."

Gandalf nodded in acknowledgement.

"Mr Gandalf?"

He turned to once again see Dori, this time back with his request.

"A little glass of red wine, as requested." The dwarf said, offering the glass. "It's got a fruity bouquet."

"Ah, thank you, Dori." Gandalf accepted the drink, bringing it to his lips.

All of a sudden, all twelve dwarves started gathering around the table in the entrance hall, which Snow could now see was completely covered in various plates of food.

"Ah!" Gandalf exclaimed, have finished the little drink. "It seems dinner is ready. Come on, Snow. Let's get something to eat."

Snow sighed as her stomach growled once again, and reluctantly nodded.

* * *

She quickly regretted it.

Sitting next to Gandalf at the side of the long table, surrounded with jolly, laughing, and messy dwarves wasn't her idea of a good evening.

They shouted and yelled, chattered and laughed, and at messily through the mounds of food they'd stolen from the pantry. Snow could only sit there, gingerly nibbling at her slice of ham and hope beyond hope that no one was being woken up by this racket.

She watched as Bombur did indeed eat a whole cheese block in one go, and quickly lost her own appetite. Instead she quietly excused herself, stepping around Gandalf and the dwarves with her plate towards the kitchen.

When she got to the doorway she turned to take one last look back at the dwarves. If all the loud shouting wasn't enough, NOW they were throwing bits of food at each other. Disgusted, she turned around. Then stopped again, as she found she was not facing the kitchen, but the utterly pillaged pantry. All the food was gone, and there were various plates cracked and chipped, and even a few broken glasses.

She paled, once again worrying about what the Queen would do to her if, no, WHEN she found out.

Behind her, Fili walked up to the table carrying a tray of tankards. With his size, and lacking the space around the table in the hall, he stepped on his chair and climbed onto the table to start passing them around.

"Who wants an ale?" he asked as he carefully, though unsuccessfully, stepped around the plates of food.

Each of the eleven other dwarves grabbed a tankard each, and they slowly drank them as they continued eating, and messing around some more. Dwalin, as a joke, poured some of his into Oin's hearing aid, and the group laughed at the other dwarf's reaction. He put the aid to his mouth and blew into it, getting the ale to fly out, and making a high-pitched noise in the process.

Dwalin raised his tankard again, shouting, "All drink on the count of three!"

The dwarves each raised their tankards and knocked them against each other as the warrior counted.

"One! Two!"

And all the dwarves brought their tankards to their lips and drank. They did it sloppily, messily, caring not for spillage but just to empty their tankard. The gulped down the drink, with loud swallowing noises. When they were all finished, they lowered their tankards to the table.

Then Nori let out a loud burp, and all of them burst out laughing. Kili burped next, slightly longer, to more laughter. The whole table became a competition of who could make the longest burp, and the sounds echoed around the table in the entrance hall, and into the pantry doorway where Snow stood, disgusted.

Ori was last to let out his noise, and made a burp that lasted for a surprising ten seconds. The others looked at him, then all cheered on the youngest dwarf of them all.

Snow put her face in her hands.

'_Oh I'm going to be in so much trouble._' She thought again.

* * *

The dwarves quickly finished the food on all their plates, and began to set about clearing up. Well, some of them. Most of them remained seated at the table in the hall, with Bombur in particular going about scouring all their plates for any scraps. But even so, dwarves piled away from the table, going about the chores.

And, to Snow's utmost annoyance, they were still chattering as loud as they had been at the table.

"Could everyone at LEAST keep quiet!" she pleaded to them as she followed Bifur and Bofur into the kitchen.

She turned toward Bofur as she spotted him grabbing a doyley and moving towards the filthy chopping bench.

"And, no," she told him, "That is a doyley, not a dishcloth!"

"But it's full of holes!" Bofur argued.

"It's supposed to be like that, its crochet." She countered as she folded the cloth.

"Oh, and a wonderful game it is, too!" Bofur said. "If you have the balls for it!"

Snow groaned at the double pun as she placed the doyley back on its shelf.

"Bother and confusticate these dwarves!" she muttered, loud enough for Bofur, who'd walked over to Bifur by the washing-up bowl, to hear.

Gandalf, who'd been standing outside the kitchen and also heard, walked inside to stand next to her.

"Snow, Snow," he said, with the intent to calm her down, ", what in Middle Earth is the matter?"

Snow turned and stared pointedly up at the wizard.

"Gandalf, I am surrounded by dwarves." She stated. "What are they doing here!?"

Gandalf looked up and over to where Bifur and Bofur were now arguing over a string of sausages the former had found.

"Oh, they're quite a merry gathering!" Gandalf exclaimed, not answering her question. "Once you get used to them."

"I don't WANT to get used to them!" she quietly shouted. "I want them out of the castle before they wake the Queen up!"

She grabbed his arm and led him out of the kitchen into the entrance hall, where the table still was.

"Look at the state of the kitchen!" she complained. "There's mud trod in the carpet! I'm not even going to tell you what they've done in the bathroom; they've all but destroyed the plumbing!"

She stood at the end of the hall, looking up to Gandalf by the kitchen doorway, a pleading look on her face.

"I don't understand what they're doing in the castle!" she exclaimed as quietly as she could to avoid waking anyone.

Then Ori chose that moment to stand up from his place at the table and walk over to the overly stressed scullery maid.

"Excuse me?"

"Yes?" Snow replied tiredly.

"Sorry to interrupt," He said politely, with the air of a small child about him, despite being the same height as Snow. ", but what do I do with my plate?"

Before Snow could reply, Fili walked over to him and picked the plate out of the young dwarf's hands.

"Don't worry, Ori. Give it to me." He said.

Snow nearly screamed when the dwarf suddenly tossed the porcelain crockery down the hall, to where his brother was waiting by the kitchen doorway. Kili threw the plate into the kitchen, right to where Bifur was waiting by the washing-up bowl, who grabbed it and began to wash.

Kili, as well as the other dwarves who were still seated at the table, began tossing every piece of cutlery and crockery on the table over to Kili, who passed them on to Bifur. Snow was nearly pulling her hair out as she shouted at them to stop and be careful.

Bofur, who'd by now returned to the table, grabbed a bowl and threw it into the air. Snow freaked out.

"No! That is my father's West Farthing bowl!" she shouted before she could stop herself. "It's over a hundred years old!"

But she watched as Kili skilfully flipped it into the air with his foot, before catching it and passing it through.

The sound of metal on metal made her turn her head to the table, where the dwarves were once again messing around. Gloin, Oin, Bombur, Dwalin, Nori and Bofur had each grabbed a pair of knives and were now scraping them against each other in a rhythm, as well as stamping their feet to a beat.

"And don't do that!" Snow shouted at them. "You'll blunt them!

"Oh, ya hear that, lads?" Bofur said mischievously. "She says we'll blunt the knives!"

And with that Kili opened his mouth and began to sing, joined in by the other dwarves.

_KILI:_

_~ Blunt the knives, bend the forks!_

_FILI:_

_~ Smash the bottles and burn the corks!_

_ALL:_

_~ Chip the glasses and crack the plates!  
__~ That's what maid girl Snow White HATES!_

Bofur pulled out a flute and begin a tune as the dwarves threw cutlery and crockery around, over to Bombur, who scraped the scraps off, and to Kili, all singing the whole time.

_ALL:_

_~ Cut the cloth, tread on the fat!  
__~ Leave the bones on the bedroom mat!  
__~ Pour the milk on the pantry floor,  
__~ Splash the wine on every door!_

_~ Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl!  
__~ Pound them up with a thumping pole!  
__~ And when you're finished, if any are whole,  
__~ Send them down the hall to roll!_

The dwarves continued to throw things around. Balin watched all the youngsters and their antics with an old dwarf's tired roll of his eye, and Gandalf smiled and laughed along with them all. Snow just stood and stared.

Snow lost track of everything, though she did spot Oin using a teapot of an instrument, but soon all the dwarves and Gandalf headed into the kitchen, still playing that tune. She followed them in as they played the last line of their song.

_ALL:_

_~ That's what maid girl Snow White HATES!_

They all burst out laughing jollily at their song. Snow stepped in and looked, wide eyes, to see every single plate, bowl, knife and fork was together, cleaned and stacked on a tray sitting on the cutting bench, and, thankfully, completely undamaged. The dwarves and the wizard were all stood around the bench, each holding a full tankard of ale, minus Gandalf, who was smoking a pipe.

Snow allowed herself the barest of smiles, knowing that, for all the dwarves loudness, messing about and recklessness, they truly were good at being careful with things.

Pat. Pat. Pat. Pat.

Everyone stopped laughing at the sound of footsteps. Snow froze in horror as she realised they were coming from the staircase at the other end of the study from the entrance hall. She turned slowly, hoping beyond hope that it wasn't the queen.

A young lady in a nightgown stepped into the view of the doorway, and Snow visibly relaxed when she saw that it was only Elanor.

Elanor stopped as she saw the scene in the kitchen, staring confusedly at the twelve dwarves, wizard in a cloak, and the still-dressed Snow.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"It's not my fault, no they don't have permission, please don't tell the Queen!" Snow said quickly before her friend could say anything more.

Elanor nodded and the mood in the room lightened again. The dwarves chuckled again at the events occurring and that had occurred that evening.

Knock knock knock!

The dwarves stopped laughing, and Elanor turned to look to the great doors. Snow stiffened again, remembering what Gandalf had said about 'one dwarf short'. She turned around to say something to him, but stopped as she realised the dwarves weren't making a noise. In fact they were being quieter than any had been all evening. They stood quietly, all frowning a respectful frown. Whoever was knocking must be important.

"Gandalf?" she asked looking up the wizard, who was also frowning.

Gandalf sighed, and spoke again.

"He is here." He said.

Snow could only wonder who he was talking about.

* * *

**I apologise for the excessive amounts of descriptions in this chapter. I wanted to introduce all the dwarves properly, giving them their proper names early on as a kind of fix-fic for the film, as said film had me confused as to who Nori was until sometime in 2014, a year and a half after seeing ****An Unexpected Journey**** for the first time. Which is also why I added in Nori stealing the jam, Gloin in all his accountant glory, and that deleted scene from the extended edition. There will be other extended scenes added in later on, but not all. Just the ones that I see as to fit into the story.**

**Just a quick question, but I'm curious. How many of you who read this story are also following ****The Terribles****?**

**Also, how'd you like the way I wrote in their song? Got the idea from CessieRose25, and her style of writing in songs for her ****HTTYD**** character swap with ****Frozen****, called ****Ablaze****. A good read, and if you like Frozen you should check it out.**

**Next Time: Chapter 4: The Dwarves' Quest**


	5. Chapter 4: The Dwarves' Quest

**Much of this chapter is basically stuff from the movie, with just the dwarves discussing stuff, and is essentially just a novelisation. But, then again, much of this trilogy will be that way anyway, so, yeah. Just bear with me, there's some stuff with Snow coming up, and Elanor has some say in it, but for now, you'll have to pay attention to the dwarves.**

**Anyway, it least pretend to enjoy!**

**Chapter 4: The Dwarves' Quest**

Gandalf led the twelve dwarves and two maids out into the hall the great doors. Snow stood with Elanor to the side, while the dwarves were in front of the table, and they watched as Gandalf grabbed the left handle and pulled the door open, revealing the thirteenth and final dwarf to the girls and dwarves. Snow blinked in surprise at him, though not because of his appearance.

He had long, wavy, dark brown hair, grey streaks lining it, and two small braids hanging from it. His beard was short, as was his moustache, and they outlined his face well. He had a straight nose, and piercing blue eyes that showed a great age, or that he'd seen much. He wore a dwarven chain-plated shirt under a fur vest, all underneath a travelling cloak. But what made Snow start was the way he held himself, for he stood in a way Snow only ever remembered seeing from her father.

He held himself like a prince.

"Gandalf." He said, his gruff voice sighing in greeting.

The dwarf smiled friendlily at the wizard, then walked inside. Some of the dwarves near Snow bowed to him with respect, and she couldn't blame them. He had an air of importance and wisdom about him. He spoke again as he untied the clasp of his cloak

"I thought you said this place would be easy to find. Lost my way. Twice. " He told Gandalf as he handed his cloak to Bofur. He looked around at the hall, and the dwarves before him. "Didn't think you'd start a party in the royal palace. Never would've realised you were here at all if I hadn't heard all the laughing and singing. And possibly not seen that mark on the door."

"Mark?" Elanor spoke up to complain. "There's no mark on that door! I painted it a week ago!"

"Uhh… there IS a mark." Snow told her quietly. "Gandalf put it there earlier."

Elanor looked to her for an explanation, wearing a slightly horrified expression.

"He was the adventurer who came here this morning." She informed her.

The two maids looked up to the wizard in question as he cleared his throat.

"Snow White and Elanor," he spoke. ", allow me to introduce the leader of our company, Prince Thorin Oakenshield." He gestured toward the newly arrived dwarf.

Snow looked at Thorin. It all made sense now. Dwarf Prince Thorin of Erebor. The way he held himself, the wisdom in his eyes, the expensive chain-plate shirt. Here, standing before her, was the grandson of the last king of Erebor, survivor of the dragon attack on the mountain sixty years ago.

Her remembered knowledge of the old stories she used to read was paying off.

And yet here he was, standing in her Queen's castle, wearing travelling gear.

Thorin looked to the girls as he was introduced, and they bowed in respect. He walked towards them, and stopped a few feet away.

"So," He said, looking at Elanor, the taller of the two. ", this is the maid."

"Actually, THIS is the maid." Gandalf corrected with his hand on Snow's shoulder.

"Oh?"

Thorin seemed slightly disappointed by such a short person, no taller than a hobbit, or a human child. Elanor and Gandalf stood out of the way as the dwarf prince began to walk in circles around the girl.

"Tell me Miss White," he asked. ", have you done much fighting?"

"Fighting?"

"Axe or sword?" he stopped in front of her. "What is your weapon of choice?"

Snow struggled to answer. To be honest she hadn't done any fighting at all, but she didn't want to seem like a common worker in front of the prince.

"Well," she answered. ", I do have a bit of skill with a broom, and maybe a frying pan, but weapons are not my strong point."

She mentally slapped herself.

Thorin chuckled and turned briefly back to the other dwarves.

"Thought as much. She looks more like a janitor than a burglar."

The other dwarves chuckled, and moved to sit back down at the table as Thorin made his way kitchen to make himself some supper. Gandalf tiredly rested his arm on the wall and sighed in slight annoyance.

"I AM a janitor." Snow said quietly.

* * *

With Thorin fixed for super, which, considering how much the others had raided the pantry, was a small bowl of soup, the thirteen dwarves and the wizard sat down the table, with the dwarves eagerly awaiting what news Thorin had to bring from his meeting.

The two maids, meanwhile moved to fix up what they could in the pantry. They both knew one of them would have to quickly run down to the village at some point between then and the breakfast shift to at least partly re-stock, but Gandalf had suggested they stay in the castle nearby for now, so they ran around, making sure the shelves were clean and the now-empty jars and plates ordered correctly.

At the table, Thorin finally finished and set aside his soup, and Balin jumped at the opportunity to question him.

"What news from the meeting in Erid Luin?" he asked. "Did they all come?"

"Aye." Thorin answered. "Envoys from all seven kingdoms."

Most of the dwarves cheered quietly at this good news. Dwalin, however, pressed him for more.

"And what did the dwarves of the Iron Hills say? Is Dain with us?"

At this Thorin stopped, and said nothing for a moment.

"They will not come." He said solemnly at last.

Dwalin sighed, and many of the others muttered in annoyance.

"They say this quest is ours, and ours alone." Thorin continued.

"You're going on a quest?"

Gandalf turned his head to see the maids watching, and it was Elanor who'd asked the question.

"Elanor, my dear," he said. "Might you bring us a little more light?" he gestured to the dark-ish, candle-lit hall.

Elanor "hmm"ed in compliance, while Gandalf beaconed Snow over to the table. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded slip of parchment.

"Far to the east," he spoke to Snow as he opened the parchment. ", over ranges and rivers, beyond woodlands and wastelands, lies a single solitary peak."

He placed it on the table in front of Snow, and the maid could now see it was a map, with, indeed, a single mountain in the middle of nowhere, north of a lake and east of a forest, and underneath the drawing of a red dragon. She knew the place well from the stories she used to read, but where most people knew it as…

"'The Lonely Mountain'." Elanor read off of the map, having returned with a candle.

Snow knew its true name.

"Erebor." She muttered in a long-forgotten wonder.

"Aye." Gloin said. "Oin has read the portents, and the portents say it is time for us to return."

Many of the others groaned when he'd said 'portents'. Ignoring them, Oin continued from where his brother left off.

"Ravens have been seen flying back to the mountain as it was foretold! 'When the birds of yore return to Erebor, the reign of the beast will end'."

Elanor look up at him in surprise.

"Beast?" she asked, slightly nervous for some reason. "What beast?"

"Smaug." Snow answered.

"Smaug the Terrible, chiefest and greatest calamity of our age." Bofur continued for her.  
"Airborne fire breather. Teeth like razors, claws like meathooks, extremely fond of precious metals-"

"I know what a dragon is." Elanor interrupted.

Suddenly the youngest, Ori, stood up.

"I'm not afraid! I'm up for it! I'll give 'im a taste of dwarvish iron right up his jaxie!"

Some of the dwarves cheered the enthusiastic youngster on, while Dori, being the more motherly of the lot, and the one sitting next to him, just grabbed his tunic and pulled him back down.

"The task would be difficult enough with an army behind us," Balin complained. ", but we number just thirteen! And not thirteen of the best, nor brightest."

Some of the dwarves muttered their rejection of this, and only stopped when Fili slammed his hand on the table.

"We may be few in number," he said. ", but we're fighters. All of us! To the last dwarf!"

"And you forget, we have a WIZARD in our company!" Kili added. "Gandalf will have killed HUNDREDS of dragons in his time!"

Gandalf held up a hand.

"Oh, well, now, I wouldn't say-"

"How many then?"

"What?"

"How many dragons have you killed?" Dori repeated.

Gandalf appeared distressed, for he refused to answer, and began to cough up smoke from his pipe.

"Come on! Give us a number!"

And most of the dwarves stood up and began shouting and arguing over how they could possibly go through with this quest, with only thirteen dwarves, most of which are barely trained for such a venture, and a wizard who couldn't even help them when it would most count. Dwalin even began threatening Oin, holding his fists up in anger.

The two maids had no idea what to do. Neither of them had been in a position where they had to stop such a fight before, much less between a bunch of dwarves. Snow tried to speak up for them to stop, but was far too timid to do so.

In the end it was Thorin who shouted, stood up, and began to speak reason.

"If we have read these signs, do you not think others would have read them too?" he queried the assembled company. "Rumours have begun to spread. The dragon Smaug has not been seen for sixty years. Eyes look to the mountain, assessing, wondering, weighing the risk. Perhaps the vast wealth of our people now lies unprotected. Do we sit back while others claim what is rightfully ours? Or do we seize this chance to TAKE BACK EREBOR!?"

He shouted the last, and twelve of his kin cheered loudly for their prince, led by Thorin himself.

"You forget, the front gate is sealed!" Balin announced.

The cheering stopped and Thorin sat down.

"There is no way into the mountain."

"That, my dear Balin, is not entirely true." Gandalf answered.

And from his pocket he pulled out a large silver key, shaped in dwarven runes and engraved with dwarvish script. Thorin stared in wonder at the object, with the realisation that it was one of the last remnants of his home.

"How came you by this?" he asked.

"It was given to me by your father. By Thrain." He answered the dwarf prince. "For safekeeping. It is yours now."

And he handed the silver key over to him. Thorin held it high, staring at it in wonder.

"If there is a key," Fili spoke up. ", there must be a door."

The wizard nodded, and pointed to the writing on the edge of the map.

"These runes speak of a hidden passage to the lower halls." He said.

"There's another way in?"

"It seems so, my nephew." Thorin answered Kili.

"Well, if we can find it, but dwarf doors are invisible when closed." Gandalf sighed. "The answer lies somewhere hidden in this mad, and I do not have to skill to find it… but there are others in Middle Earth who can."

Thorin looked up at him, an eyebrow raised. The wizard ignored him, and looked around at the thirteen dwarves and the two maids, singling out Snow, as he began to speak again.

"The task I have in mind will require a great deal of stealth, and no small amount of courage. But if we're careful, and clever, I believe that it can be done."

"That's why we need a burglar." Ori told the maids.

"Hmm." Elanor nodded, looking at the map. "An expert, I'd imagine."

"And are you?"

She looked up, only to see every one of the dwarves looking at Snow. She furrowed her eyes at her in confusion as the smaller girl looked around at the dwarves.

"What? No!" she exclaimed. "I'm not a burglar! I'm a maid!"

"But Gandalf said he chose you!" Bofur pressed.

"I've never stolen a thing in my life!" she turned on the wizard. "Gandalf!"

The wizard said nothing. He only frowned as Balin started to speak.

"I'm afraid I'd have to agree with Miss White." He said. "She's hardly burglar material."

"Aye, and the wild is no place for gentlefolk who can neither fight nor fend for themselves." His brother added.

Snow let out a sigh in relief. The dwarves, however, began to fret again, arguing again over whether the venture was a good idea. They weren't shouting over the table about it, but a sense of unease flittered over the group.

"ENOUGH!" Gandalf suddenly shouted.

He stood up, and suddenly the hall became much darker. A shadow seemed to spread from his form, and even the light from Elanor's candle didn't hold it back. He voice sounded, loud and fierce, and as if it were coming from everywhere at once.

"IF I SAY SNOW WHITE IS A BURGLR, THAN A BURGLAR she is." He said the company, as the magic faded away. "Maids are remarkably light on their feet, and can go unseen by most if they choose. With her size, Snow has the highest chance of remaining hidden from the dragon, and while Smaug is accustomed to the smell of dwarf, Snow's scent is all but unknown to him which gives us a distinct advantage."

"But Gandalf-"

"You asked me to find the fourteenth member of this company," he spoke to Thorin, ignoring Snow as he sat back down. ", and I have chosen Miss White. There is a lot more to her than appearances suggest. And she has far more to offer than any of you know!"

He looked directly at Snow.

"Including herself."

Snow looked up at the tall wizard, who looked down at her fondly. Her mind was now torn. She knew she was just a maid, without training or skill with a sword, not to mention she was one of the maids of the Queen of Shireland, a very important job. Gandalf seemed to think she could be more than that. And right at that moment she did not know.

Gandalf leaned to Thorin and said, "You must trust me on this."

Thorin looked at the wizard a moment, then made his decision, if slightly grumpily.

"Very well, we'll do it your way."

"B-but-"

Thorin ignored her and looked to Balin. "Give her your contract."

Some of the dwarves cheered quietly, Bofur saying "Alright! We're off!", as Balin pulled out his own folded up scroll of parchment from his pocket.

"It's just the usual." He told the maid. "Summary of out-of-pocket expenses. Time required. Remuneration. Funeral arrangements. So forth."

Thorin grabbed it from him and pushed it into Snow's arms.

"Funeral arrangements." She breathed as she handled the scroll. "Right."

She turned and walked away from the table as she fumbled to open the contract, and Elanor followed.

"Snow, what's going on?" Elanor asked quietly. "What have you done?"

"Nothing!" she replied. "They just turned up an hour ago!"

"But you said Gandalf came by earlier." She pointed out. "What did he say to you?"

Snow ignored her as she finally unclasped the scroll. Her eyes widened at it fell, reaching down two feet, almost at tall as Snow. She half-moaned, half-sighed at its size. She looked to the top and began to read even as they could hear Gandalf and Thorin talking quietly in the background.

"'Balin of the Blue Mountains would like to invite you on a quest to the long-lost dwarf stronghold of Erebor, as the fourteenth member of the company of Prince Thorin II Oakenshield. Mission: to steal an important item buried in the treasure within the mountain, as well as attempt to reclaim the fortress itself. Dangers: Along the road: Vagabonds; highwaymen; possibly orcs, whether or not there'll be any travelling packs is unknown. At the destination: most likely the Fire-Drake known as Smaug the Terrible; long falls that can occur within the city. Terms: Cash upon delivery, up to but not exceeding one fourteenth of total profit, if any;'"

"Seems fair." Elanor commented.

Snow continued: "Present company shall not be liable for injuries inflicted by or sustained as a consequence of thereof, including, but not limited to… lacerations?"

Gandalf suddenly turned to look at them at this.

"Eviceration!?"

She opened up a side-slip and froze. Elanor grabbed the paper and looked at it, before turning slowly to the table of dwarves with a stern, fearful, expression.

"Incineration!?" she questioned them.

"Aye," Bofur answered jollily. ", He'll melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye."

Snow stared off into the wall as this hit her. She began to feel rather light-headed, and began panting.

"You all right, lassie?" Balin asked.

"Y-yeah…" she answered, leaning on her knees. "Feel a bit feint."

The Bofur stood up and stepped closer.

"Think furnace with wings." He said, unhelpfully.

"Mr dwarf-"

"Air. I need air." Black spots started appearing in front of her eyes.

"Flash of light," he continued. ", searing pain, then poof! You're nothing more than a pile of ash!"

Balin, Gandalf and Elanor stared at Snow warily as she stood, still staring into the wall. After a moment, she stopped panting, and seemed to stabilise. She took a deep breath.

Then…

"Nope."

Her legs buckled and the maid collapsed, and without her comparatively-tall friend to catch her, she would've fallen to the cobblestone floor.

"I tried to tell you!" Elanor shouted at Bofur.

"Oh, very helpful, Bofur." Gandalf berated the dwarf himself with his sarcastic comment.

* * *

"I-I'm okay." Snow told Elanor the moment she saw her worried expression. "I just need to sit quietly for a moment."

Elanor and Gandalf had taken the tiny girl into the study, and sat her down in an armchair behind the desk at the end of the room (which Elanor had pointed out was the Queen's armchair, though Gandalf ignored her) with the contract, while the dwarves had dispersed around the ground floor of the castle. Dori had been kind enough to pour the girl a cup of tea, which she quickly grabbed and took a sip of when she woke up moments later.

"You've been sitting quietly for far too long!" Gandalf complained from the other side of the room.

Snow lowered the cup and the two maids looked over to him as he moved around the study's table.

"Since when did doyleys become so important to you?" he inquired. "Since when did an un-stocked pantry or unannounced visitors scare you so much? I remember a little girl who was always running off in search of elves in the woods! You'd stay out late, trailing mud and twigs and fireflies!" he chuckled at that last bit.

"You've met her before?" Elanor asked.

"I most certainly have!" he said, turning on her. "Though I was entirely sure you'd remember Elanor Gamgee! Were you not the most enthusiastic about my fireworks?" **[1]**

Her face lit up in surprise, then realisation.

"Oh! THAT Gandalf!" she exclaimed, then asked, "You remember me?"

"Yes I do." He answered. "Both of you. Elanor, who loved my fireworks more than anything else. And Snow, the little girl who wanted nothing better than to discover what was beyond the borders of Shireland!"

He looked down at the little maid in the chair. He sighed.

"The world is not in the Queen's books and maps." He said, then gestured out the window. "It's out there."

Snow sat thinking through his words for a moment. Then she exclaimed:

"I can't just go running off into the blue! I'm a scullery maid of one of the last remaining monarchs in Middle Earth!"

"You are also a Dúnedain princess!" Gandalf argued back.

Elanor turned to look at him in surprise, then at her friend. Snow sighed and let her head fall back against the chair.

"You ever wonder why you take so long to grow while your friend is at her full height?" Gandalf spoke again. "The Dúnedain have much longer lifespans than normal men. Childhood lasts longer, and adulthood begins when they're thirty!"

"And look what good it does me." Snow muttered.

She was smaller. She was teased. She was given the harder tasks. Even the Queen didn't want her, making her a scullery maid instead of her rightful place as heir to the throne after her father died. She was small. That's all her lineage did her.

Gandalf responded to her mutter by pointing his pipe to a portrait on the wall.

"Did you know that your great-great-great-great-aunt, Queen Lillianna the Bullroarer was only seventeen years of age when she became the greatest general the west has known since the Battle of Mount Doom?"

"No."

"Well she was! In the Battle of the Green Fields she charged the goblin ranks, and swung her sword so hard that it sliced the goblin king's head clean off, and sent it sailing a hundred yards through the air and down a rabbit hole!"

Snow frowned at this unexpected line. She looked up as the wizard moved to stand in front of her.

"And so the battle was won." He finished. "And the game of Golf invented at the same time."

He smiled cheekily, and Elanor put on an amused smirk. Snow also couldn't help but smile at this.

"I do believe you made that up." she said.

"Well, all good stories deserve embellishment." Gandalf replied as he sat down in the chair opposite the study table from Snow.

"You'll have a tale or two to tell of your own when you come back." he told her.

Snow stared at the ground, not saying anything for a moment. The half of her that was the young Dúnedain princess she used to be urged her to say yes. It yearned to go on an adventure into the wild, into the world of Middle Earth. It longed to see the world, the Misty Mountains, Rivendell, Erebor.

But then the half of her that she was now took over, and she turned her head to look up at Gandalf.

"Can you promise that I will come back?" she asked.

Then it was Gandalf's turn to be silent.

"No." he answered finally. "And if you do, you will not be the same."

Snow sighed, and smiled sadly at the ground.

"That's what I thought." She replied. "I'm sorry, Gandalf, but I can't sign this."

She placed her cup on the desk and stood up, grabbing the contract as she did, and handing it to the wizard.

"You've got the wrong girl."

Gandalf himself sighed his disappointment and took the scroll. Snow picked up her cup and moved around the desk and to the entrance hall to dispose of it, leaving the wizard staring off at the wall opposite him, and her friend watching her as she went. Something seemed to click in Elanor's head, and she asked a question to Gandalf, not turning her head from where she looked.

"It has to be her, doesn't it?"

Gandalf said nothing, but after a moment, he nodded.

* * *

Within a few minutes, Snow had returned her cup, thanked Dori, apologised to Balin and Thorin, and retired to her bedroom on the second floor. It was the furthest from the helical staircase that lead to the study, and therefore to the entrance hall, which meant that it was one of the furthest walks to where she had to go to perform her chores. She didn't mind. Not really.

She changed into a nightgown made of rags and lay in her hard wooden bed, staring up at the ceiling. She thought back to the night, of the thirteen dwarves and the wizard who had turned up unexpectedly to the castle, of the contract and quest she'd turned down, of the entire pantry which she and Elanor would have to re-stock before the other maids woke up to make the Queen's breakfast.

Should she not have turned down that offer? Should she have chosen to go with them? Was she making the right choice by staying behind?

She sighed in the cold night air that blew through the room, just wondering what would've happened had she accepted.

As she lay there, thinking, she began to hear something. A deep sound that echoed from downstairs.

Humming. The dwarves were humming a tune. It was a sad sound, of grief, and mourning.

After a few moments, Thorin Oakenshield began to sing in a deep, sad, voice.

_THORIN:_

_~ Far over… the Misty Mountains cold,  
~ To dungeons deep… and caverns old.  
~ We must away… ere break of day,  
~ To find our long… forgotten gold._

Then the other dwarves all joined in, all singing in the same sad voice.

_THE COMPANY:_

_~ The pines were roaring… o-o-o-on the height.  
~ The winds were moaning… i-i-i-in the night.  
~ The fire was red… it flaming spread.  
~ The trees like torches… blazed with light._

The company of Thorin Oakenshield continued to sing, but Snow could not have listened, as she fell asleep listening to the tune.

* * *

**[1] I felt Gandalf would call her by her full name at this moment, and Gamgee made the most sense.**

**So, I've decided to do this whole thing mainly from Snow's point of view. I wanted to do the whole thing, including what happened with the dwarves and the fight with the goblins, but Snow's our main character, and she wasn't there at the time. And also that would be a complete novilisation, which is completely unnecessary for a PlotFusion. Maybe for a CharacterSwap, if you could find enough characters to replace all thirteen dwarves, but not here.**

**So, tried 3K words, didn't work, did 4K, which seems to fit in with my 5.5K absolute limit. After all, the prologue to Big Hero Glitch was 5.2K.**

**Oh! That reminds me! If you like Wreck-It Ralph, Big Hero 6, and the crossover ship between Vanellope Von Schweetz and Hiro Hamada (known as 'Vaniro') then go to my profile and check out Big Hero Glitch, a collaboration between me an Hanaekaptr on DeviantArt!**

**Next time we take a tangent from The Hobbit's plot, and play out some of Snow White's tale, with a bit of a twist. Just a bit.**

**Next Time: Chapter 5: A Dangerous Morning**


	6. Chapter 5: A Dangerous Morning

**LadyBlackroseMusketeer: Her role is very small. She appears here at the beginning, and is VERY important in this chapter, then returns at the end of The Battle of the Five Armies.**

**New chapter! And now to showcase something that is definitely NOT a novelisation. This is my version of Snow running away to join the circus dwarves!**

**Enjoy!**

**Chapter 5: A Dangerous Morning**

Snow White woke up with an 'Omph!'

Groggily she stirred, pushing herself up from the wooden floorboards she found herself on, having just fallen off the bed. Reaching up, she grabbed the wooden mattress and pulled, hauling herself up. Looking up to see the window still dark, with only the starlight and the feint beginnings of dawn shining through, she groaned as she remembered the night before and the little mission she and Elanor would have to do before breakfast. Fun.

Tiredly, she pulled herself up and walked over to the tiny wardrobe that held the few dresses she had. Two sets of her usual rags, and also something much prettier that a tradesman had given to her once. Safe to say the moment had been an unexpected one, and Snow had fretted all the way up to the castle, where Elanor had smuggled it into Snow's wardrobe.

It was a travelling dress, though one wouldn't assume so because of its bright colours. It had a navy-blue corset-like top, and flowed down in a butter-yellow dress. The sleeves were short, and bunched up in shoulder-bells with three tear-shaped holes to a second layer of red fabric. It came with gold boots, a blue-grey cloak and a leather utility belt that included a number of small bags for various items.

Snow had wanted to decline the dress, but the trader had insisted she take it. 'The perfect dress for a lady adventurer', he'd said. As if she'd ever need to use it.

Snow sighed. She'd just passed up on that opportunity.

She reached in to grab one of her raggedy dresses when she heard a noise.

THUMP!

She instinctively turned her head to the door, the source of the noise. She shrugged, imagining it to just be Elanor getting out of bed, and turned back to the wardrobe.

THUMP THUMP!

There it was again! Still, probably nothing. Though, it DID sound closer. Probably Elanor's footsteps.

THUMP THUMP THUMP!

Footsteps, she realised, would be much quieter, especially from Elanor. Maids WERE light on their feet, after all.

No, this was something heavier. Much heavier.

Thump, thump, thump, thump, THUMP, THUMP, THUMP, THUMP!

Nervous, she turned back to the door in fear.

A few moments later, something punched the door open. A gnarled, clawed had broken through the wood, allowing the door to slide open. And following it through the doorway were two hideous creatures. Clawed hands and feed, hunched over like goblins, with scarred faces and metal armour imbedded in their skins.

Orcs.

The two orcs looked around the room to find it empty apart from the wooden bed, and the lump under the thin blanket. The two creatures chuckled, a terrible sound akin to the growl of a wolf, and stepped forward, drawing a pair of jagged swords as they did. Standing on either side of the bed, the lifted their blades into the air and stabbed them down.

Snow gasped.

They stabbed again and again, making hole after hole in the blanket, sending feathers from the pillow below flying everywhere.

Growling in annoyance, they lifted away the blanket to reveal no one there, just a pile of shredded feathers. One of them said something in their language to the other, and the two stalked from the room into the hallway.

Slowly, Snow crept from the closed wardrobe in which she'd hidden, staring after the evil mercenaries that had just tried to kill her.

Could it be that they were pillaging the castle? If so then they'd probably be in the village too, and there were no screams or shouts echoing through the window. That meant they were looking for someone in particular, and if they'd gone straight to stabbing her bed with their swords…

Snow breathed in shakily as realisation hit her like a charging bull.

They were after HER.

With a split-second's decision, she turned around and grabbed the traveller's dress from the wardrobe.

* * *

Snow peaked nervously out the door of her room, earing the brightly-coloured travelling dress. Feeling slightly better with no one there, she pushed the door carefully and stepped out into the hallway, on either side of which were the other maids' quarters. Each of course being much more luxurious than her own.

As she tip-toed down the hall, she kept an eye out for the orcs while letting her brain work. Why were they here? Why were they trying to kill her? And why ONLY her? The only thing important about her was something very few people in Middle Earth knew. And most, if not all of them were people she didn't think would send orcs after her. Only one came close, and that was a ridiculous idea.

Reaching Elanor's door, she looked up and down the hall to make sure no one, and noTHING, was coming before slowly pushing the door open.

And immediately got a whack to the face from a broom.

She fell back to the floor, stunned to see an angry looking Elanor standing in her doorway, menacingly holding a broom over her head. However, to Snow's relief, the look on her friend's face was one of surprise, which changed to fear as she grabbed Snow's arm and pulled her into her room.

Shutting the door carefully, Elanor turned to the smaller girl who now stood between her and her bed.

"Snow, I'm so sorry!" she whispered down to her. "It's just there were these things, UGLY things! With daggers and claws and they were HIDEOUS!"

"Orcs, I know!" Snow said back, a hand up to calm her friend, though she wasn't calm herself.

"What are they doing here?"

"I-I'm not sure!" Snow said, unsurely and nervously. "They came into my room and tried to kill me!"

Elanor gasped and started looking her over.

"Are you okay?" she asked. "Did they hurt you?"

"No, I hid in the wardrobe. They never saw me." Snow assured her. "But… they did destroy my blanket and pillows."

"Oh good." Elanor sighed again, then frowned. "Why did they try to kill you?"

Snow looked down to the ground.

"I don't know." She replied.

Elanor leant back against the door, broom still in hand, while Snow moved to sit on Elanor's wool-cloth mattress.

Her eyes widened. She almost sank right through it! It was INCREDIBLY comfortable compared to her wooden bed.

She moaned quietly and closed her eyes in pleasure as she automatically lay back on the bed, feeling as if she'd sink right to the floor. On her own bed, it was completely solid and was the only thing that let her wake up in the morning, what with all the hard work she had to do during the day. But this thing? She could sleep forever on one of these! **[1]**

She heard a certain someone giggling from the door, and suddenly felt REALLY jealous of Elanor.

She turned her head to scowl at her amused friend, who immediately looked away and pretended she hadn't been looking.

A thumping on the other side of the door shut down both of their antics. From the sounds of it, the orcs were walking down the hallway again.

Forcing herself to climb out of the most comfortable place in the world, Snow walked back to the door, and joined Elanor in peeking out. They could see the orcs talking. Only, there were not only the two that had tried to kill Snow earlier, but THREE!

"That's not the three I saw!" Elanor whispered.

"You mean there are MORE of them!?"

The orcs stopped and looked around, and Snow slammed a hand to her mouth to stop herself making more noise. One of them, obviously the leader, sniffed the air, then turned and said something to the others before stalking off to the staircase. To Elanor and Snow's horror, the other too moved over to stand on either side of the door, facing away from the walls into the hall, keeping the two maids trapped inside.

Snow quickly and quietly stepped away as Elanor shut the door again. The taller girl turned to Snow, then stopped, looking her up and down.

"You're wearing the travelling dress?" she asked, having only just noticed it.

Snow fidgeted with the butter folds at her thighs as she bashfully looked to the ground. She opened her mouth and explained everything, right up to the point of her realisation.

"And so I figured that if they were trying to kill me…" she finished. "Then I might as well be ready to go."

Elanor frowned.

"Go where?" she asked.

Snow shrugged.

"I don't know." She answered. "But I can't stay here. If I do, they'll kill me."

"But they'll need to know you're leaving, otherwise they'll tear the castle apart until they find you."

Snow sighed in resignation.

"Yes." She answered.

She looked up to her friend's eyes, then dropped hers again and sobbed quietly.

"Snow," Elanor comforted, stepping toward her. ", it's okay."

She wrapped her arms around her smaller friend and hugged her, patting her on her smooth-wavy black hair, stroking the bright-red bow she wore.

"But where do I go?" Snow wondered aloud.

Elanor opened her mouth to answer, only to find she HAD no answer. Her eyes closed and her head rested in Snow's hair as her own sobs came forth. They stayed like that for a few minutes, long enough for the dim orange dawn to shine through the window, signalling a new day. Elanor's eyes opened again to the light and her gaze fell on the chair by her bed. Her eyes widened as she remembered what was there.

She let go of Snow and walked past her, leaving the tiny girl to watch after her confusedly. After picking up what she'd found, she turned to Snow and held it up to her.

It was now Snow's turn to have wide eyes. For held up in her friend's hand was Balin's rolled-up contract.

Elanor said nothing as she stepped back to her friend and handed the scroll to her. The little girl opened it once more and read. The morning light fell on it, making it glow in the dawn and reflect on her face and her eyes.

Snow's mind again waged war again between running off as a Dúnedain adventurer or staying as a tiny maid. Only this time there was a bias.

With orcs prowling the castle for her, there was nothing left for her here.

Snow looked up to her taller friend, a determined yet fond smile on her face.

* * *

The orcs that had been ordered to watch this random maid's door were bored. And annoyed. And grouchy, but all orcs were like that.

They were annoyed that they were forced to stay here while the others had all the fun in tracking down the girl. One of them unsheathed its sword and ran a finger along it, smirking as a cut ran along its finger. He chuckled as it thought of something to do to pass the time.

It suddenly swung the sword at its partner, stabbing it through the hand. The orc cried out in pain, while the first doubled over laughing.

The second orc grabbed the first by the throat, and the two began wrestling in front of the door as their boredom dissipated.

Until, of course, Elanor slammed the door open, sending the two creatures to the ground. Before the orcs could stand up and retaliate, she whacked them both over the head with her broom, knocking them out cold.

"Orcs have a rubbish sense of humour." She muttered.

Snow gingerly stepped out into the hall, a travelling pack full of various items on her back. Elanor turned to her seriously.

"Have you got the contract?" she asked.

Snow held up the scroll to show her before tucking it away in one of her utility belt's pockets. Elanor nodded and handed her the broom.

"Stay hidden in my room." Snow instructed her friend. "They know I'm gone, so they won't look there. Then at the first chance you get, get out of the castle."

"Shouldn't I warn the Queen?"

Snow took a moment to bring herself to reply.

"If you must, but I'm not entirely sure if you can trust her."

"What do you mean?"

"Think!" Snow said. "There's only one thing in Middle Earth that's important about me, and the only people who could possibly know about it are me, you, Gandalf, the dwarves and HER!"

Elanor's eyes widened.

"You think SHE's behind this!?"

"I don't know." Snow responded. "But maybe it's wise not to trust her about this."

Elanor nodded after a moment.

"First chance you get, get out." Snow repeated.

She turned to walk to the staircase, but stopped as Elanor said something unexpected.

"As you wish, your highness."

Snow frowned and turned, expecting to see her friend smiling cheekily at her. She was doing anything but. The serious expression on Elanor's face hadn't left her, and she looked back at Snow, not making a move down the hall.

"Right." Snow muttered.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Elanor asked her.

Snow sighed and shook her head, then walked back over to her friend.

"I don't know." She answered truthfully as she stopped in front of her. "I suppose I must've thought it dangerous to do so. At least the secret's safe with a friend."

"Gandalf was right." Elanor said to her. "There's more to you than what meets the eye."

Snow looked up and smiled at her.

"Am I ever going to see you again?"

Elanor did not reply for a moment. And when she did, she gave the best answer there was.

"Counting on it."

Snow's smile became wider, and she opened her mouth to reply when the THUMP THUMP THUMP of orc footsteps made her turn. However many other dwarves were in the castle were climbing the stairs, and fast. They must've heard the other's hitting the floor.

"Go!" Snow commanded, falling perfectly into the role of a leader.

Elanor ran down the hallway to Snow's room as the princess apparent brandished her broom threateningly to the stairs. The sound of heavy footsteps came closer, and the shadows of the orcs started appearing on the walls, and Snow suddenly became very nervous.

She heard her bedroom door slam behind her as the first of the orcs entered the hallway. Briefly she hoped that the orc didn't see Elanor shut the door.

Then her attention returned to the ugly, vicious, menacing and deadly orc that was now running at her.

Screaming in fear, she swung her broom wildly at the orc, only for it to dodge again and again, as the heavy brush weighed Snow down. The orc stabbed at her with its sword, and the girl only barely dodged in time. She tried retaliating with the broom again, but still missed.

They danced and fought, neither of them landing a hit. Then the orc slashed at her, striking the broom and slicing clean through the end near the brush. Snow stumbled back as the broom's weight shifted, but wasn't given time to compensate before the orc attacked again. It slammed its sword onto what was left of the broom, and she held it up to block, only for the orc to push back harder. She strained under the force as she kept it at bay, keeping it back as good as she could.

Then, to her dismay, another pair of orcs climbed the stairs into the room. She sighed exasperatedly as they too charged. And then, coming up with an idea, she let the orc push back on her to give herself a brief rest, then pushed forward with all of her strength, sending the orc flying back into the other two, toppling all of them to the floor.

She had no time to revel in her victory, for she immediately ran forward and jumped over them and into the helical stairwell, running down as fast as she could without slipping. She could hear the orcs jumping up and running down after her as she exited into the study.

She stopped in her tracks. The sixth and final orc in the raiding party, the leader she and Elanor had seen earlier, stood in the entrance to the entrance hall, growling and, if she thought orcs could do so, she'd say it was smirking.

The orc growled in anticipation as it began walking around the tables towards her, sword unsheathed. Frightened she ran around the other side, only for it to follow her. Luckily this allowed her to run out into the hall, and make the final stretch to the great doors. Reaching them, she grabbed the handles and pulled the doors open.

A THUD could be heard behind her, followed by another, more sonorous one. Against her better judgement, Snow turned to see the orc leader on the floor, clutching at its head in pain. It must've run into the doors when she opened them.

Smiling, she turned back and ran as fast as she could into the outside world, and luckily she now had no orcs following her. Still holding the former-broom in her hand, she sprinted with her best effort, a tiring prospect, considering she now had a heavy travelling pack on her back, though the boots DID make it easier.

She ran down the clean stone brick steps, past the cobblestone well, and down into the village. She ran past houses, markets, farms and shop buildings, down the cobblestone and grass streets and heading east from the cliffs to the Great East Road, the most likely starting point for the dwarf company's journey.

As she ran past a clothes market, a certain trader called out:

"Miss White!? Where're you off to!?"

"Can't stop! I'm already late!" she replied.

"Late for what!?"

The little princess-maid cast herself the biggest adrenalin-fuelled smile of her life.

"I'M GOING ON AN ADVENTURE!"

* * *

**[1] A bit of a non-sequitur, but it's something I imagined happening, and allowed the scene to be spaced out a bit.**

**And so the adventure begins!**

**Like I said in the previous AN, just a BIT of a twist.**

**Okay, so that was completely different to anything in SWatSD or The Hobbit, but it pulls along the threads of both stories that tie together in my version later on.**

**Anyway, this is actually the shortest chapter I've done since November! Less than 3K words!**

**Tell you what, this thing I have about the number of words in my chapters is becoming a running gag! I've got a real-life trope! *hint-hint***

**For those of you confused as to why this is coming out before the chapter 1 of Big Hero Glitch, Hanaekaptr hasn't yet finished the preview image, so I'm currently waiting on her =P.**

**Next Time: Chapter 6: Tales of the Dwarves**


	7. Chapter 6: Tales of the Dwarves

**Toby7400: Thanks! Do ya' think I should maybe extend the ending of that chapter with having the orcs chase Snow through the village?**

**Either way, Snow's on an adventure! This time, she meets up with the dwarves, misses her handkerchief, decides she does NOT like Kili, and learns some things about dwarves and wizards.**

**Not necessarily in that order.**

**You can almost basically think of this chapter as a series of drabbles based on some of the earlier events of the film, leading up to the troll hoard.**

**So, enjoy!**

**Chapter 6: Tales of the Dwarves**

Outside of the Shireland village, far along the Great East Road and halfway through the East Farthing Woods travelled the company of thirteen dwarves and a wizard. They'd been travelling on pony-back, and horseback in Gandalf's case, since six in the morning, when they'd left the castle with seven hours' sleep, and now they were nearing the edge of the kingdom. They kept their steeds at a walk as they rode out, beginning their journey at last.

Though some of them felt as if they were missing someone important…

"WAIT! WAIT!"

Thorin held up a hand to stop the company at the sound of the girl's cries. The dwarves and the wizard turned their heads to see Snow White running as fast as she could with the traveling pack on her back, and still carrying the broom-pole, racing to catch up with the troop. She finally stopped near side of Balin's horse, panting profusely, and pulled out of one of her belt-pockets the rolled-up contract.

"I signed it!" she exclaimed cheerfully as she handed it to the old dwarf.

The old dwarf smiled down to her as he took the scroll, then pulled out a finger-held monocle to inspect the signature. Snow looked around at the other dwarves excitedly and slightly nervous. Most of them watched with intrigue or joy, while a few scowled in annoyance. The handsome one, Kili she thought, turned away and breathed out and she noticed Thorin appeared to be bored and sighed as he waited for Balin to make his decision.

And after a moment, Balin spoke one more with pride and glee.

"Everything appears to be in order!"

Snow smiled brightly as the old dwarf stowed away his monocle and furled the scroll up, even as he turned to look back at her.

"Welcome, Miss Snow White," He announced. ", to the company of Thorin Oakenshield!"

Snow beamed with happiness, and joyous cheers erupted from eleven of the thirteen dwarves, even those who had, moments ago, been pouting. Balin merely winked down at her, and Gandalf smiled fondly at the girl.

Thorin, meanwhile, only seemed more irritable.

"Give her a pony." He ordered grumpily, eager for them to be on their way.

Snow's smile faded and she turned to look up at him even as the company began to move again.

"No, no that won't be necessary." She assured. "I've spent most of my life walking, I'm sure I can keep UP-"

Without warning, she felt herself being lifted up by the shoulders on either side, and was held there until a pony was moved underneath her and she was dropped onto its saddle. She winced as she felt her legs stretched to either side by the pony's flanks, but, having had to deal with her own injuries for most of her life, she could adjust.

What did stump her was where to put her hands.

"Uhh…"

There she sat on the back of a pony with not a clue of what to do. She knew there were reigns, though she wasn't entirely sure what to do with them, her feet just lay at the sides of the animal, and she felt as if she could just fall backwards and off the pony at any moment. Her puzzlement, and lack of encouragement, caused the pony to lag behind and stop.

Kili, nearby, urged his own pony to turn around when he realised she wasn't following.

"Have you never ridden a pony before?" He asked amusedly as he halted his pony in front of her.

"N-Never." Snow managed to respond though her stupor.

She frowned up at the dwarf… prince? He should be a prince. If he was Thorin's nephew, and Thorin was the heir to Erebor, then Fili and Kili were technically also princes, weren't they?

Anyway, Snow looked up and frowned at the dwarf prince as Kili chuckled at her with mirth. He clearly found her lack of knowledge funny. Calming his amusement, he looked back at her and spoke.

"First, place your feet in the stirrups." He instructed.

"The what?"

Kili laughed again. Snow's face contorted in a scowl again.

"What's the hold-up!?" Thorin called back to them.

Snow looked past the laughing Kili to see the company had halted again, with Thorin glaring annoyedly back at them. Kili turned back and tried to offer an explanation, but only started laughing again.

"I'm a scullery maid, not a stable-hand!" Snow protested, "I was never trained to ride a horse, much less a pony!"

Thorin sighed in annoyance.

"Kili, get over your merriment and help her!" he ordered his nephew. "Or else we'll never get to the mountain!"

Kili calmed himself down and turned back to her, though he still had trouble not snickering at Snow's trouble.

* * *

Luckily for the princess/maid/adventurer-in-training, Snow was a fast learner, and within a few minutes, Snow had mastered the skill of riding her pony, at a trot at least, semi-confidently holding the reins. She settled on the pony, the broomstick held firmly to the saddle, and the company moved forward, on their way again at last. Snow was sure to urge her pony to walk near the front of the group with Gandalf, Balin and Thorin, far away from the rude and insensitive dwarf known as Kili.

Needless to say, by this point she had decided she did NOT like Kili.

Gandalf, however, was very friendly, sparking up a conversation with the girl about what she thought of the company so far. Balin joined in on occasion, giving Snow the impression that he was a nice dwarf to sit and chat with.

A light clinking sound drew her attention to the back of the company, even as Gloin shouted "Come on, Nori! Pay up!"

Looking back, she saw eight of the remaining eleven dwarves throwing small sacks across to the others, the three of the rest, Bofur, Gloin and Ori chuckling with glee as they pocketed their newly gained coins.

"What are they doing?" Snow asked Gandalf, still looking back.

"They made wages on whether or not you'd turn up." The wizard answered. "Most of them bet that you wouldn't."

"Did all of you bet on this?"

"Thorin and I stayed out of it." Balin answered for Gandalf. "I'm too old for their child-like energy. And Thorin doesn't like distractions."

Indeed, Thorin had remained stoically focused on the road ahead, ignoring the sounds of the playing dwarves behind him. Snow had noticed so far that he was very much gruff and irritable, and was determined on keeping the company on track as they travelled.

But Snow returned her attention to the current conversation, and turned to Gandalf.

"And what did YOU think?" she asked the wizard.

"Oh, well…"

The wizard reached behind him and caught a bag of coins, and began chuckling to the girl.

"My dear girl," he said merrily as he pocketed his winnings, ", I never doubted you for a second!"

* * *

A little along the road, Snow sneezed.

She'd been feeling it ever since she'd first been dragged onto the pony, which she'd been told was called Myrtle. Dust had quickly settled in her nostrils, and she felt it tingling in her nose. And eventually she couldn't take it anymore, and she sneezed.

Gandalf looked down at her quizzically from his position on his horse next to her. She noticed and slowly managed to respond.

"All this horse hair!" she complained nasally.

She reached into her belt pockets and rummaged around, trying to find a handkerchief. She found very few things, most left over from the previous owner, such as some beans, a few coins, dirt, mould, rats' teeth (she had no idea why the previous owner had those), but no handkerchief.

"No, no!" she muttered.

"What in Middle Earth is the matter?" Gandalf chimed in.

Snow stopped rummaging and sighed.

"Forgot a handkerchief." She answered. "Elanor and I packed everything else I'd need that we could find in her room, but not a handkerchief."

Behind them, Bofur had heard this and ripped a scrap of cloth off of his tunic.

"Use this!" he called forward.

Snow and Gandalf looked around as he tossed the rag to Snow.

"Perfect!" Snow proclaimed as she caught it graciously and brought it up to wipe her nose.

As she tucked the garment away in one of her belt pockets she noticed Gandalf frowning down at her, with a surprising slight disapproval. Snow understood why. Even as a maid, she should have been entitled to the use of ordinary utensils, such as handkerchiefs. But alas, the Queen had sequestered and disempowered her so much that she wasn't even allowed to use that.

It wasn't HER the wizard was frowning at. It was at the upbringing that brought on the gracious use of something most other people would hold at the end of a stick.

"It will have to do." Gandalf breathed. "You will have to do without pocket handkerchiefs, and a great many other things until we reach our journey's end."

Snow nodded in understanding.

It was then that she noticed the company was climbing a hill, and a brighter stream of light flittered onto the path ahead.

Her mouth opened slightly in anticipation. The more light meant they were near the edge of the forest, and the East Farthing Woods was at the very edge of the kingdom.

As if hearing her thoughts, Gandalf spoke again:

"The rolling hills and little rivers of Shireland are behind you."

And at last, they reached to top of the hill, and Snow's jaw dropped at the land before her.

The forest broke open, and the gravel road ahead was surrounded by clear grassy plains, bordered by mountains at the north, and stretching unceasingly to the south. In the distance sat a town, Bree, its brown wooden walls standing out in the green landscape, and beyond that, much further away, was the largest mountain range in Middle Earth. The Misty Mountains.

Before her and the rest of the company was the land beyond Shireland. She was at the very edge of home.

"The world is ahead." Gandalf finished.

* * *

They passed through the town of Bree that afternoon, and Snow got to experience a non-sovereign town for the first time. She was slightly nervous as they approached, for she'd always thought such places as dirty, muddy places, filled with tavern and inns, drunkards, vagabonds and other such unsavoury people.

She was not disappointed.

But, despite that, she did end up enjoying their ride through the town, seeing the outside world properly for the first time. Gandalf pointed out The Prancing Pony, which he claimed to be his favourite inn in Middle Earth. Men, women and children in cloaks walked the street, some looking dodgy, but others seemed quite pleasant as they watched the odd company pass by. Snow was happy to pass a few coins she had on to a young beggar boy who walked up to them.

They quickly passed through the small town, moving out, as Thorin put it, over the edge of the wild.

And wild was what it looked like. While behind them lay Bree, ahead lay nothing but grassy hills and the Misty Mountains. The gravel road stretched on and on into the distance, and as they rode their trotting horses along it, Snow looked back behind her.

As they climbed a hill, Snow could see over the ever more distant Bree to her stepmother's kingdom behind them, only to find that the forest took up most of the view, only the tip of the towers of the castle rising over it.

And it was only then that Snow realised with great dread that she was somewhere she'd never been. She didn't know where she was. She didn't know how to cope. She was travelling along an unknown road with a company of thirteen dwarves and a wizard, in unexpected and complicated circumstances, with no sight of the end.

And she thought to herself then:

'_I am not at home._'

* * *

The company camped that night on the ridge at the top of the hill they'd climbed, sheltered by a sheer rock wall on one side and a long drop at the other. They set up a fire and they all settled down, Gandalf sitting at watch from a tree. The ground she lay on was uncomfortable, but less so than her wooden bed with the blanket Elanor had packed under her. All in all, it was very easy to just lie back and fall asleep.

Or at least it would be if not for Bombur's constant snoring.

The moths flying around the massive dwarf's mouth were constantly being sucked in and breathed out as her slept, amplifying the infuriating noise that he made, and all in all it was impossible for Snow to even lie there.

Groaning in annoyance as he breathed the moths in again, Snow stood up and decided to try to settle herself with a short stroll. She couldn't go far, of course, as they all needed to stay near the camp, but the cliff edge where the ponies were situated wasn't far.

She moved to the cliff-top, careful not to put herself precariously on the edge, and looked out over the wilds of Middle Earth. Grass, trees, hills, mountains, the forested cliff in the distance standing imposingly across from them, and the cold, clean night air hanging lightly around her. She closed her eyes and breathed in and out, enjoying the tranquillity. Despite her realisation that everything now was different, it was hard for her Dúnedain side not to enjoy it.

Then something had to screech from the opposing cliff.

Snow opened her eyes and stepped back in fright as she recognised the orc-cry. The insidious creatures yelled across the lands around, striking fear into her heart.

There were more orcs out there, but were they one of the travelling packs the contract mentioned, or could they be the same ones that tried to kill her?

Snow quickly ran over to where Thorin lay against a rock, noticing the dwarf prince looking out at the distant cliff warily.

"Thorin," she urged, "I think we're being followed!"

The dwarf turned to look up at her sternly.

"What makes you say that?"

Snow suddenly found herself hesitant to tell him the truth about her leave for the castle. Something was stopping her, as if it would make the dwarf re-think her place in the company.

"I don't know." She answered. "It's just a hunch."

Thorin huffed, and turned back to staring across the wilderness with a hidden fury. Snow sighed, exasperated, and moved back to her blanket near the rockface. She moved to sit back down, cautiously looking out again.

"Orcs."

She turned, startled at the voice, to see Fili and Kili, who'd spoken, sitting next to the wall near the fire, both with solemn expressions on their faces.

"There'll be dozens of them out there." Fili said. "The lowlands will be crawling with them."

"They strike in the wee small hours when everyone's asleep." Kili added with a darkened expression. "Quick and quiet, no screams. Just lots of blood."

Snow turned to look back across the gap between the two cliffs. She knew full well what orcs were capable of, and she'd seen their deadly tactic for herself. Still, the way the brothers spoke about it gave her chills. What if they attacked them tonight?

Then a chuckling behind her drew her attention, and she turned and scowled at the princes who'd just joked at her expense. If they'd known what she had gone through that morning, they never would've dared make such a joke.

Then again, this was Kili after all. She did NOT like Kili.

She opened her mouth to scold them.

"You think that's funny?"

The dwarves' smiles where wiped off of their faces as Snow was interrupted by the gruff voice of their uncle. Thorin had stood up, and now walked past them as he moved away.

"You think a night raid by orcs is a joke?" Thorin demanded.

"We meant nothing by it." Kili apologised.

But Thorin wouldn't let them off that easily.

"No you didn't!" he spat. "You know nothing of the world!"

Snow and the brothers watched as Thorin stomped off to stand at the edge of the cliff, watching across the lowlands with a frown. Snow stared at the heir to the dwarves, taken aback by his sudden harshness. Thorin so far had seemed dark and broody, but so far he'd never lashed out like that.

Snow turned back again as Balin stepped up to lean against the rock wall next to Fili.

"Don't mind him, lassie." He said solemnly as he looked over to Snow. "Thorin has more cause than most to hate orcs."

The brothers looked back at their uncle, already knowing the tale, while Snow sat down on her blanket to listen to the old dwarf.

"After the dragon took the Lonely Mountain," Balin began ", King Thror tried to reclaim to lost dwarven city of Dwarrowdelf. Moria."

* * *

**Sixty Years Earlier**

_But our enemy had got there first._

The world was chaos. The sky was on fire, the rock drenched in blood, and Prince Thorin II of Erebor struggled to hold his own against the forces that his people were up against.

With the mountain taken, Thror lead his people west to the misty mountains, only to find the old kingdom overruled by orcs.

Within seconds the vile creatures had bore down upon them, cutting through their ranks. They slashed and stabbed at them, and Thorin, Balin and Dwalin found themselves caught up in a fierce and bloody battle.

Orcs fell around them, but far more dwarves did, cut down by the hideous warriors. Their blood splattered across the ground, their sightless eyes staring creepily upward at the remaining fighters. Not that anyone bothered to look down as they fought to stay alive, clobbering and slicing the orcs in an effort to win. But even that was for naught.

_Moria had been taken by legions of orcs, led by the most vile of all their race._

For in the middle of the battlefield, a warrior of immense size smashed dwarves with a swing of his mace. He was six feet tall, covered with scars, with many tattoo shapes carved into his pale white skin. No dwarf stood a chance against him, as he cast them aside like bugs, a mere annoyance, though he treated them like far worse.

The pale orc stood up in the battlefield as the crowd of his enemies thinned out, and he looked across the fighting armies to see, by chance, King Thror himself.

The King looked back defiantly, locking eyes with the evil beast as he prepared for the terrible battle that would follow.

_Azog, the Defiler._

Thror yelled and raised his shield as the pale orc beared down upon him, and was immediately almost crushed by a single blow of the orc's mace. The orc kept coming, knocking away his shield, and the King realised at that moment that there would be no escape for him.

* * *

"The giant Gundabad orc had sworn to wipe out the line of Durin." Balin told Snow, never once looking way from her.

Then Balin looked down to the ground.

"He began…"

Balin paused, looking solemnly at the ground, and Snow didn't need him to finish to realise what happened next.

"… By beheading the King."

* * *

Azog the Defiler roared triumphantly across the battlefield, and Thorin looked up at him and staggered.

For in the pale orc's grasp were the hairs from which hung the disembodied head of his grandfather, king Thror.

Thorin stared in horror as the orc turned and stared at the prince, and then threw his grandfather's head carelessly across the rock ground to his feet.

And Thorin looked back up and screamed.

"NOOOOO!"

_Thrain, Thorin's father, was driven mad by grief. He went missing, taken prisoner or killed, we did not know. We were leaderless._

With the king gone, the orcs trampled over the dwarf army. The dwarves ran, pushed back by the pursuing orcs, who tossed them and their bodies off the cliffs as projectiles. With no one to lead then, the dwarves crumpled and fell, and more and more of them were slain by Azog's hoard.

_Defeat and death were upon us._

* * *

Snow's heart, darkened by the old dwarf's sad story, warmed as, unexpectedly, Balin smiled once more.

"That is when I saw him." Balin told her, looking back up to her.

The old dwarf looked over to where the dwarf prince stood, pride in his eyes as he continued his tale.

"A young dwarf prince facing down the pale orc."

* * *

Thorin steadied himself as the orc swung around, adding power to his mace, and he held up his sward to counterattack. But then Azog struck, and Thorin found his hexagonal dwarf shield flying off of his arm and down the rocky slope.

_He stood alone against this terrible foe!_

Then the orc swung again, tossing the sword from his grasp, and Thorin fell over and off onto the rocks below. He rolled to a stop and looked up to see the orc jump off after him, holding the mace high above his head. Thorin looked around him to find somewhere to roll away to, when he noticed something.

Laying on the ground to his left, an oak branch, torn from the broken trees around him, lay on the rocks, a thick twig sticking out almost like a handle. With his normal shield gone, and nothing else to defend himself with, he made a split-second decision and grabbed the branch before rolling out of the way of the orc's attack.

Quickly, he rolled himself to a stand, and held the branch up as the orc swung at him again.

_His armour rent,_

The iron mace smashed into the oaken wood, and Thorin found himself forced backward again. To his utter surprise, the branch did not break, didn't even splinter. Apart from the burns in his hand he was getting from the makeshift handle, it was a surprisingly good shield.

He held it up again as Azog pressed forward once more.

_Wielding nothing but an oaken branch as a shield._

Again and again the orc struck, but the trusty oaken shield refused to break. Thorin held his own, at least keeping himself from following his grandfather, but without a weapon, all he could do was try to stay alive in the face of this danger.

Then Azog swung twice more in quick succession, and with brute force he slammed down onto the shield. Still it held, but Thorin was thrown to the ground once more. Thorin stumbled, avoiding his next strike barely, and toppled over onto his back. His arms flared out, the shield one way, and his sword-hand the other.

Then, luck struck him. Thorin's right hand fell onto the handle of his dwarf sword, tossed away earlier on. With a regained fury, he grabbed on to it and, as the orc made to smash him into the ground with the mace in his left hand, swung the sword upward, and it sliced clean through the arm of the pale orc.

Azog screamed and stumbled back, clutching the bloody stump in pain. Thorin stood up triumphantly as the orc fell on his knee, screaming bloody murder.

_Azog the Defiler learned that day, that the line of Durin would not be so easily broken._

Thorin had no chance to finish the pale orc off, for the orc commanders, seeing their leader injured, dragged Azog back into Moria, and he was never to be seen nor heard from again.

But Thorin, meanwhile, stood on the rocks and called down to the dwarves, shouting the battle cry:

"Du bekâr!"

It was Khuzdul for "to arms", and was a call the all dwarves to take up arms and fight for their lives and their kingdom, and Prince Thorin II Oakenshield lead the charge, Balin and Dwalin behind him, to force back against the encroaching orc army.

_Our forces rallied and drove the orcs back!_

The dwarves fought back, using their newfound hope to strike back in vengeance for their fallen king, a new fire lit in the hearts of them all. Thorin braced with his oaken shield and struck with his dwarven blade, Balin smashed at orcs with his hammer, and Dwalin did not relent with his twin axes as they smashed back at the crumbling orc armada.

_Our enemy had been defeated._

* * *

But Balin stared grimly at the ground as he remembered that day.

"But there was no feast, nor song that night," he continued. "For our dead lay beyond the count of grief. We few had survived."

* * *

A grief-stricken Balin watched as his brother moved away to help search for survivors. A difficult task, as the rocky ground was invisible behind the sheer number of bodies, dwarf and orc alike.

In his distraught state, Balin turned to look around at the death-stenched former battlefield, only to stop and stare at an inspiring sight.

Standing upon a ridge, looking on, enraged, at the graveyard of his people, a dwarven sword in one hand, an oaken branch in the other, was Thorin.

* * *

"And I thought to myself then, 'there is one I could follow.'"

Balin turned and looked proudly at his prince.

"'There is one,'" he said, finishing, "'I could call 'King''."

And only then did Prince Thorin II Oakenshield, heir to the throne of Erebor, turn from his post at the edge of the cliff. Not too much to his surprise, he saw the entire company standing, watching him, inspired by Balin's tale. He smiled a small smile and nodded at his friends as he walked back amongst them, and they parted respectfully to let him through.

Even Snow was amazed at the tale, of the young dwarf prince defeating the pale orc and rallying his people. Even her old books didn't have that tale. And by the way it had ended, she knew full well why. Not one would have the heart, courage or disrespect to tell that awful tale in a tavern or a bar. Only in reference to the triumphant Prince Thorin could the tale be told, and by none better than Balin.

She looked over to the rock where Thorin's saddle-pack lay, and, sure enough, at its side lay the oak branch, now hollowed out and upgraded with dwarven plates, a strap and a proper handle. The trusty shield that saved him, and he still used it to this day. Or night rather.

But something nagged at the back of Snow's mind, as if something was not yet complete, something left off. Something dark.

"And the pale orc?" she turned back to ask the old dwarf. "What happened to him?"

But it wasn't Balin who replied, but Thorin.

"He slunk back into the hole whence he came." He answered her with disgust. "That filth died of his wounds long ago."

And with that he walked off, slightly calmer than he was before, to the rock where he had previously lain with his saddle-pack, to rest and relax his mind as much as he could.

But Snow noticed the look Balin shared with Gandalf. They knew something Thorin didn't. This wasn't over between Thorin and the orc.

Something was coming.

And on the ridge across the lowlands from them, an ugly head reared out of the forest, on the back of a beast from some people's worst nightmares. Riding up beside was another one, just as ugly and fearsome as the last, waiting for orders.

The first orc sneered as he turned to his second-in-command.

"Send word to the master." He spoke in their vile orc tongue. "We've found the girl and the dwarf scum!"

* * *

The next day was terrible. It was bright, slightly sunny, but was pouring with rain.

The ponies trotted through the mud as they pushed through the trees and the wet mass in the air. The disgruntled dwarves groaned and complained at it all, Oin and Bofur emptying out their hearing aid and pipe respectively.

The rain didn't bother Snow much, for she was used to being sent out into the rain to do her chores, and didn't really care about her travelling pack and dress getting wet.

In actuality she loved the rain, the cold droplets landing on her and running off her skin. She'd come inside, drenched and soaked with her hair sticking to her neck, getting laughed and teased at by Lobelia, getting the apologetic smile from Elanor and the disgusted frown from her stepmother. It was one of the feelings she enjoyed, err, HAD enjoyed, most of all during her chores.

The dwarves, however, were a little less tolerant.

"Mr Gandalf!" Dori called out from under his drenched hood. "Can you do something about this deluge?"

"It is raining, Master Dori," the wizard replied, bothered more by the simple question than the rain. ", and it will continue to rain until the rain is done! If you wish to change the weather of the world, you should find yourself another wizard!"

The last line caught Snow's attention.

"Are there any?" she asked from her position right behind him.

"Any of what?"

"Other wizards?"

"There are five of us." He answered with a little more interest.

And so he began to tell the girl about his fellow mages.

"The leader of our order is Saruman, the White, who lives in the watch tower of Orthanc in the fields of Isengard. There is Flendar the Green, the witch of the south, who resides most of her time in the elven kingdom of Lothlórien. The elves there call her Galadriel. Then there is the blue witch of the north…" **[1]**

Gandalf trailed off, deep in thought.

"You know," he said finally, ", I've quite forgotten her name."

"And who's the fifth?" Snow asked.

Gandalf smiled fondly as he answered:

"That would be Radagast, the Brown."

"Is he a great wizard?"

"I should think so, in his own way." Gandalf answered proudly. "He is a solitary fellow, preferring the company of animals to others. He keeps a watchful eye over the Greenwood and the forested lands to the east. And a good thing too. For always evil will seek to find a foothold in this world."

Gandalf finished solemnly, and Snow nodded in understanding.

Behind her, however, she heard Kili gossiping to Fili.

"I thought it was because Elven King Thranduil won't bother to do it himself."

Snow couldn't help but snort at that.

* * *

**[1] Yes, so I turned Galadriel into a wizard. It's all part of the plan for my version of the story. Don't like? Don't read.  
Also, what do you think of the name I've given her?**

**Also, I HAVE cut out the incredibly important stuff with Radagast, because in this version events didn't quite move so fast because of the nature of the forces behind them. You'll see! *sing-song voice***

**Note to readers who are also fans of Big Hero Glitch: Because I need to do some description of some things in the chapter that are based off of Hanakaptr's drawings, it'll be a while before the chapter comes out. Right now she's making the preview comic, a whopping 4-page epic that'll make the actual thing worth the wait, so she'll be a while before she can finish the drawings so I can do my descriptions. But don't worry! It'll be a blast! And a Blast will turn up!  
You'll have to read it to understand that riddle!**

**Until then, you'll be getting a number of updates for Snow White. Yays!**

**So, yet another chapter down! A nice long one, with a series of events happening in quick succession, inspired by the movie, book, and my own ideas. Hope you enjoyed, from the joining of the company, to Balin's tale, to the revelation of the wizards!**

**Next time, however, the company faces their first true trial!**

**Next Time: Chapter 7: The Trouble with Trolls**


	8. Chapter 7: The Trouble With Trolls

**Yikes I've been gone for a while! Nearly four weeks! I'm SO sorry you guys! I nearly had this chapter finished following exams when lots of other stuff built up in the way!**

**So, I kinda lied about you guys getting tons of Snow White while I work on BHG. Sorry. :(**

**Howev's, we're back! We're up and running, and now I think I'm ready to bring you the next step in Snow's story. And the first antagonists she encounters, too!**

**Enjoy!**

**P.S. May I just say I like how well you guys are taking it that I temporarily cut out Radagast and turned Galadriel into a wizard. Thanks you guys!**

**Chapter 7: The Trouble with Trolls**

By that afternoon the company had travelled a fair way towards the mountains, covering the vast tracks of grass and along the Great East Road. The rain had stopped and the sun had come out, for which the dwarves were glad, as was Snow, as she was beginning to get rather cold.

It was late afternoon when the company climbed up a small hill into a sheltered part of the encroaching woods. A weathered and broken shack stood in the centre, surrounded by posts of an old fence. There were large weeds and runaway crops and trees growing up around the abandoned homestead, increasing the amount of shelter in the area. **[1]**

As they reached the crest of the hill, Thorin made his pony stop and turn so he could address the company. Snow, however, noticed as Gandalf climbed off of his horse and moved to inspect the dis-repaired lodgings, so she followed on her own pony.

"We camp here for the night." Thorin announced to the remaining twelve dwarves, then began delegating jobs. "Fili, Kili, look after the ponies. Make sure you stay with them."

Snow frowned as she watched Gandalf warily look around the destroyed building, noticing his unsurety of the place seep through his expression.

"A famer and his family used to live here." He muttered.

"Oin, Gloin, get a fire going."

"I think it would be wiser to move on." Gandalf responded to Thorin.

Thorin walked over to where the wizard and the maid were stood, stepping past Snow towards the broken entrance to the old farmer's house.

"We could make for the hidden valley." Gandalf suggested to their leader.

But Thorin frowned again, not with confusion this time, but contempt.

"I have told you already," he growled as he passed the wizard into the shack. ", I will NOT go near that place."

"Why not?" Gandalf retorted. "The elves could help us! We could get food! Rest! Advice!"

"Elves?"

"I do not need their advice!"

"We have a map we cannot read, Lord Elrond could help us."

"Help?" Thorin said, slightly incredulous.

"What's the hidde-"

"A dragon attacks Erebor." Thorin snapped. "What help came from the elves? Orcs plunder Dwarrowdelf, desecrate our sacred halls, the elves looked on and did nothing!"

Thorin stepped closer to the wizard, intimidating the girl, despite the fact that both Snow AND Gandalf were currently taller than him.

"You ask for me to seek out the very people who betrayed my grandfather?" he asked. "My father?"

"You are neither of them!" Gandalf urged. "I did not give you that map and key for you to hold on to the past!"

"I did not know that they were yours to keep!" Thorin countered.

And with that, Gandalf sighed in annoyance and stomped off, muttering and shaking his head as he walked straight though the hut entrance and past Snow. Confused about what just happened, Snow jumped off her pony and followed him as he made his way to his horse.

"Gandalf? What was that about?" Snow tried to draw his attention. "What's the hidden valley?"

Gandalf sighed, grumbling as they stopped by the horse.

"Rivendell." He answered. "One of the three elven villages of Middle Earth. I'm sure you know of how the dwarves have a stubborn dislike of the elves since the fall of Erebor."

Snow nodded.

"It appears that stubbornness has caused our leader at least to completely overlook the danger of staying here."

Snow frowned.

"Danger?" she questioned. "What danger?"

Gandalf stared incredulously at her for moment, then he shook his head and grumbled again as he climbed on his horse, and Snow moved out of the way to prevent being trampled on as she asked:

"Gandalf, where are you going?"

She almost thought Gandalf was ignoring her as he encouraged the horse into a light trot along the direction of the road, until he replied:

"To seek the company of the only one around here who's got any sense."

"And who's that?"

"MYSELF, Miss White!"

And with that he was gone, his brown horse cantering away down the road towards the mountains.

Snow watched him go worriedly, a slightly confused frown settling on her face. She looked back to the hut, to where the dwarf prince had his own annoyed frown on, seeming less than surprised by the wizard's reaction. She turned back to the rest of the company, hoping that one of the could offer an explanation, only to see all twelve of them looking back at where the wizard left, the same confusion written on all of their faces, minus Balin.

"Come on, Bombur! We're hungry!" Thorin shouted impatiently.

Bombur and the others immediately got back to work, setting up the fire, settling the ponies, organising dinner and their provisions as a response to the prince. Snow, meanwhile stepped up to Balin.

"Is he coming back?" she asked worriedly.

Balin only sighed and looked unsuredly in the direction the wizard had left, leaving Snow unassured.

* * *

Day turned to dusk, and dusk to night. The company made refuge inside the tattered farmer's house, Oin, Gloin and Bombur setting up the fire and a cooking pot in the centre. Dwarves were bustling around, busying themselves with feasting on the broth that cooked over the firepit.

Snow, meanwhile, stood at the entrance, watching out for any signs of Gandalf. The wizard hadn't returned since he'd stormed off earlier on, and the girl was beginning to worry. She knew she shouldn't; Gandalf was a wizard after all. Yet there was something else nagging at her mind. Since the cries of the orcs she'd heard the previous night, she couldn't shake that feeling she'd had. That they were being followed. That SHE was being followed.

"He's been gone a long time." She spoke aloud to no one in particular.

"He's a wizard! He does as he chooses." Bofur replied from the broth pot.

A number of the dwarves had come up to her, asking what she'd been doing. Luckily Kili wasn't one of them, seeing as he was currently tending to the ponies with his brother. Bofur, meanwhile, had kept a watchful eye on her, trying to strike up a conversation.

Bofur was a friendly dwarf, as it turns out. Jolly all the time, with a penchant for making jokes and general conversing. She figured he could be a good friend for however long she'd be on this journey with the company.

She sighed, nodding in response to Bofur. Gandalf was probably fine. He'd be back when he was ready.

Still, there WAS something… off… about the evening air.

"Snow, could you do us a favour?"

She turned around to see Bofur holding out two bowls of broth to her. Neither were hers; Bofur had handed her hers a while ago. And as everyone else in the hut was capable of serving themselves, she moaned internally as she realised who these were for.

She would prefer not to be the one who had to deal with the young dwarf princes, especially not Kili, however they needed food, and the ponies needed watching. Bringing them their meal was a job that needed to be done.

"Take these to the lads." Bofur confirmed her fears as she stepped up to him and took the bowls in her hands.

She turned away and walked back out the entrance, Bofur scolding Bombur about something in the background, and walked past the rocks, over-grown weeds and what looked like a broken-down cart to find the two dwarves in the midst of the shrubbery.

Stock-still, standing shoulder-width (THEIR shoulder width, not hers) apart, and as she found when she moved to stand between them, staring worriedly out at the scattered ponies with confused expressions. Snow looked from one to the other, wondering what was wrong.

"What is it?" she asked before she could stop herself.

Yes, it was Kili, the dwarf she'd decided she didn't like, but his and his brother's expressions made her curious, and frankly even more nervous.

To her relief, Kili didn't make any wise-cracks, but instead responded:

"We're supposed to be looking after the ponies."

"Only we've encountered a… slight problem." Fili added, nervously turning to Snow.

Snow looked back and forth between them.

"What problem?"

"We HAD sixteen." Kili said.

And Fili finished with a rather unnerving sentence:

"Now there's fourteen."

* * *

The three searched the shrubs, counting and recognising the ponies left, and searching for any sign of the missing two. Snow never put down the bowls as she searched, a bit miffed that the brothers hadn't taken them yet.

Then again, it was FILI and KILI she was dealing with.

The search came up with nothing, and the three came back together at the back of the overgrown farm paddock.

"Daisy and Bungo are missing." Kili announced as he re-joined his brother and the maid.

"That's not good." Fili stated.

"And THAT's not good at all!"

Fili and Kili looked to see where Snow was pointing (as well as she could while holding the soup bowls), to find something that should not have been so easily missed. A whole tree had been ripped from the ground and was now lying in undergrowth, twigs and branches littered everywhere. It looked less as if it had been purposefully been grabbed and wrenched from its standing place, and more as if it had been clumsily pushed aside by something… something big.

"Shouldn't we tell Thorin?" Snow asked as Fili moved to inspect the fallen tree.

"No." Fili replied nonchalantly. "Best not worry him."

Snow stared at him, exasperated.

"Something big just smashed through here and possibly took two of our ponies." She stated. "This is probably something he NEEDS to worry about."

"Actually," Kili replied, ", as our official burglar, we thought maybe you'd like to look into it?"

She stared at him as if he were mad. From what she'd seen so far, Kili may be inconsiderate, jocular at other people expenses, and just plain annoying, but surely he and his brother wouldn't seriously ask her to investigate into something like this?

"Hey!" a whispering Fili drew their attentions to where he was crouched in front of the upturned tree. "There's a light!"

The other two moved to crouch beside him and looked on into the forest to see that the yellow light of a fire was shining through the dark to where they stood in the moonlight. What more, there were noises coming from its direction. A sneeze, followed by loud, menacing, sneering laughter.

"You were right about it being something big." Fili told her, gazing warily towards the source, doing nothing to settle the girl's nerves.

"What is it?" she asked.

It was Kili who answered, and he answered with a disdainful growl.

"Trolls!"

And without another word, the two brothers leapt over the log and into the trees. Snow followed, only stopping to quickly retrieve the two soup bowls before she carried them along after the dwarves.

As she neared where they'd crouched behind still-standing tree, she found herself having to duck into the undergrowth as something big lumbered through the forest nearby.

Three metres tall, grey skinned and with big, hulking shoulders, the troll had an ugly face, tree-truck-like legs, and huge, three-fingered hands.

Three-fingered hands that were currently clutching the sides of two of the company's ponies.

The equines were screeching their fear as the giant-sized troll cumbersomely carried them through the trees, ripping them through the branches and causing them to neigh again and again, louder and louder.

Snow had never seen one before, having only ever read about them as a child, but now she had she wished she hadn't. But she forced herself to push the fears aside with the knowledge that the troll DEFINITELY had their ponies.

Snow crept though the shrubs to hide behind the second tree near the brothers as the enormous troll lumbered toward the light source with the ponies in hand.

"He's got Myrtle and Minty!" Kili muttered to the other two.

"They're not going to eat them, are they?" Snow asked, turning to him.

The brothers only gave her a look that said "what do YOU think?".

Snow sighed and looked back around the tree to the light source.

"Then we have to do something." She stated.

Unbeknownst to her, the two brothers looked back up to her, identical thoughts sparking an idea.

"Yes, you should!"

Kili stood up and moved around her to her tree, sneaking the bowl of soup from her grasp and pushing her to where he'd stood. Snow turned and looked back up at him in nervous confusion.

"Wait, what?"

"Mountain trolls are slow and stupid, and you're so small!" Kili reasoned.

Snow shook her head in protest, but Kili kept going.

"It will be perfectly safe!" he said, "We'll be right behind you!"

Somehow she didn't feel assured by this.

Then Fili reached around her to grab his own bowl.

"If you run into trouble, hoot twice like a barn owl, and once like a brown owl!"

Then the blond-haired dwarf brother pushed her out and around the tree in the direction of the trolls' camp.

"No no no no no!" Snow muttered as she stood amongst the ferns, staring towards the light in fear. "I can't do this! This is bonkers! Are you sure this is a good id-"

She turned to look back at the dwarf brothers, only to find, somehow not to her surprise, that they were, of course, gone.

If she survived this, she was going to murder Kili.

Sighing quietly in annoyance, she turned back towards the troll camp and tentatively stepped forward in a crouch, muttering, "Twice like a barn owl, once like a brown owl". If only she could remember the difference.

As she neared the camp, and saw the clearing where it was situated, she could hear one of the trolls talking.

"Mutton yesterday, mutton today, and blimey if it don' look like mutton again tomorro'!" the gruff voice of the troll complained.

Hiding behind a tree on the outskirts of the clearing, she could see the area, surrounded by masses of large rock and broken trees, and in the middle a cooking cauldron sitting in the middle of a large, blazing firepit. Now she was there, she could see that there were THREE monstrous trolls together in the clearing, all looking rather similar to her and all looking REALLY hungry. Two were sitting down on tree trunks, one holding a spoon and stirring the pot, while the third carried the ponies around them to somewhere in the clearing where Snow couldn't see.

"Quit yer gwiping, Bert!" the pony-carrying troll said in the half-formed common tongue they spoke. "These ain't sheep! These is fwesh nags!"

The troll that wasn't cooking groaned in his higher-pitched voice.

"I don' like horse, Tom! I never 'ave!" he complained. "Not enough fat on 'em!"

"Well it's be'er van leavery ol' farmer." The cook, Bert, told him. "All skin an' bone, 'e was."

Snow's breath hitched as she remembered what Gandalf had said about a farmer once living in the old lodgings, and silently cursed to herself for her and Thorin not listening to him.

Then she looked back up and, across the clearing, saw the first troll, Tom, move away to reveal the company's four ponies standing in a small, closed-off, hastily-built pen, whinnying frightenedly.

A plan made up, Snow moved crouched around the clearing to reach the pen.

"I'm still pickin' bits of 'im ou' o' me teeth." Bert finished.

Then, to Snow's utmost disgust, the last troll sniffled loudly, then he emmited a very loud sneeze, right into the cauldron!

Bert, who seemed almost as disgusted as she was, stood up.

"Well tha's lovely that is!" he growled. "A floater!"

Tom on the other hand said, "Migh' improve the flavour!"

Seeming pleased with the idea, the remaining troll grinned.

"Oh? There's more where that came from!"

"Oh no you don't!"

And he sniffled again to bring out more contaminated mucus, only for Bert to let go of the spoon to grab the last troll's nose. He moaned in pain and discomfort, squirming in Bert's grasp until the cook threw him bad down into the log-seat, yelling:

"Siddown, Wiwwiam!"

And the last troll, William, moaned before pulling an enormous dirty handkerchief from his belt and sneezing a long, loud sneeze into it.

Meanwhile, Snow had finally reached the ponies' pen, and was pulling at the tangled mess of sloppily-made rope and tight nots tied around a ground-imbedded branch. She struggled to find some way to untie it and set the ponies free. There was no loose rope, not a single free string or coil, just the thick troll-rope wrapped tightly around the large stick in the ground.

She groaned, nearly giving up, looking up just in time to find William turning to look at the constantly-noisy ponies. She quickly moved to hide close to the ground behind the post, hoping she wouldn't be spotted.

"I 'ope you're gunna gut these nags!" he said, standing and leering towards them, and unknowingly the maid girl. "I don' like the stinky parts!"

As he turned around again, Bert whacked him on the heard with the large metal spoon.

"I said sit down!"

William moaned in a childlike way as he clutched at his head and moved to do as he was told, and Snow tried once again to find a weak-point in the ropes.

"I'm starvin'!" Tom yelled. "Are we 'avin' 'orse tonigh' or wha'!?"

"Shu' you cake-hole!" Bert snapped. "You'll ea' wha' I give ya!"

Snow looked up to scowl at them, briefly forgetting they were gluttonous, murderous trolls to wish they'd just shut up and let her concentrate.

All those years at the castle and she'd never had to deal with this. They were almost like a band of squabbling brothers, not unlike something that she'd seen in the village. Loud, noisy, always complaining and asking when dinner would be. She briefly wondered what life would've been like if she'd had brothers, either step brothers from the queen or just half-brothers. If they'd have been anything like these trolls, she'd probably have had trouble dealing with them for all this time.

Then she shook herself from those thoughts of hers when her eyes fell on something hanging to William's belt. As the younger troll pulled away his handkerchief, Snow spotted a long, curved, serrated blade, something that would be perfect for cutting through the rope that made of the ponies' fence.

The only problem was, to get to it she'd have to sneak close to the trolls.

Looking back up to the rope in hope that there was some loose end she'd missed, she stood up carefully and began creeping towards the trolls.

Then Tom began to complain again. **[2]**

"'ow come 'e's the cook!? Everything tastes the same! Everything tastes like chicken!"

"EXCE'T the chicken!" William added.

"Wha' tas'es li'e fish!"

"Ya know, a li'le appreciation would be nice!" Bert protested.

Then both he and Snow froze as one of the ponies noticed her and whinnied loudly. Luckily for Snow, Bert shrugged it off and continued to stir the cauldron and argue.

"'Thank you very much, Bert. Lovely stew, Bert.' How 'ard is 'at!?"

Snow kept creeping forward, but the horses kept neighing with glee that she'd come to rescue them. How they knew that she had no idea, and she didn't really care about it right now. She put her fingers to her lips to shush them, then cringed as she dropped the bloodied human bone she'd accidently grabbed in the process. **[3]**

Then she found she had to duck as William reached out to sneakily try to grab something. He picked up a makeshift cup and brought it to his lips as Bert finished mixing in "a sprinkling of squirrel dung".

"There!" Bert sounded pleased with himself before noticing William holding the cup. "That's—My grog!"

William nervously looked back at him and began laying it back, saying "sorry" before being whacked again by Bert's spoon.

Bert sat back down and dipped the spoon in the cauldron before bringing it to his lips and sipping.

"Oh, that is beau'ifully balanced, tha' is!" he said delightedly, and brought the spoon of hot green sludge to William's mouth. "Good, Init? Tha's why I'm the cook!"

With William distracted, Snow took the opportunity to dodge around behind him and made an attempt to take the blade. Only, William kept moving, making her attempt to pull it out of his belt for naught. She tried again, only this time for William to stand up.

She winced, thinking he'd felt her try to take the knife and ducked down, hoping he wouldn't see her. Luckily nothing happened, and she looked back to see whether he was sitting down again just in time to see the big troll scratch his behind, handkerchief still in hand.

She cringed again, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

He sat down again, and she slowly rose to try and take the knife again, just as Tom stood up and grumbled:

"Me guts are grumbling! Got to snaffle somethin'! Flesh! I need flesh!"

Meanwhile William shook again as he neared another sneeze. Then he unexpectedly reached back on reflex to grab his handkerchief, despite the fact that it was already in his hand, and ended up grabbing Snow, pulling her to his mouth and sneezing his thick green snot all over her.

Then William opened his eyes to look again and saw the tiny maid lying in his palm, and screeched in surprise, standing up.

"BLIMEY!"

Snow lay there, feeling both disgusted AND disgusting. Covered in thick green troll bogies, her beautiful blue-and-yellow travelling dress all but ruined, and worst of all, she'd been spotted by three monstrous trolls.

"Look wha's come ou' o' me 'ooter!" William squeaked as Bert and Tom moved to look at the girl as well. "It's go' arms an' legs an' everyfing!"

Snow started squirming as she tried to roll off of his cupped hand as Bert said:

"Wha' is it?"

"I dunno!" William answered fearfully. "But I don' li'e the way i' wriggles around!"

And he threw the mucus-soddened girl to the dirty, leafy ground, where she quickly stood up as Tom moved closer and pointed an overly-large filleting knife at her.

"Wha are ya then?" he asked her. "An oversize' squiwwel?"

Snow's mouth moved before she could stop it.

"I'm a princess-uhh-maid!" she hoped they didn't notice her slip-up.

"A princehmaid!?" William asked incredulously.

Then Tom had an idea that he announced to his fellow trolls.

"Can we cook 'er?" he asked, licking his big grey lips.

William smirked.

"We can try!"

Snow yelled a frightened yell as William moved forward around the firepit and made a grab for her. She ducked and made a run for the edge of the clearing, but stopped and squeaked when she found her exit blocked by Bert. The troll cook looked down at her, scrutinising her, before saying:

"She wouldn' make more than a mouthful, not when she's skinned an' boned!"

He pushed her with his spoon back into the clearing, where she stopped just short of being run through with Tom's knife.

"P'r'aps there's more princehmaids 'round these parts!" he suggested. "Might be enough fer a pie!"

He pushed her away again with his closed fist, sending her stumbling through the clearing towards William. The younger troll made a grab for her, but she dodged, and she did so again and again as both William and Bert swiped at her, the younger complaining that she was too quick. Then she took an opportunity to run through his legs toward the edge of the clearing again. Unluckily for her, Tom then reached forward and grabbed her legs and held her up at his head-height, knife pointed to her chest.

"Are there anymore of you li'le fellas hiddin' where you shouldn't?" he interrogated her.

"No." she answered with a quivering voice as she struggled to get her legs free.

"She's lyin'!" William deduced, pointing an accusatory finger at her.

"No I'm not!"

"Hold 'er toes over the fire!" William suggested darkly. "Make 'er squeal!"

Then, as if on cue, William squealed and pulled his leg up and shook it in pain, stumbling away to reveal Kili standing there, sword drawn, and moving to slash again at William's toes.

Looking up at the assembled trolls and moving to stand opposite them, the young dwarf prince held up is sword and ordered:

"DROP HER!"

"You wha'!?" Tom shouted.

"I said," Kili grabbed his sword with two hands and heroically stared the troll down. ", drop her!"

Snow just stared at him from her 'vantage point' in confusion. Here he was, the arrogant, joking, infuriating dwarf that send her into this mess, sticking his sword up to try and save her.

Tom did not drop her, nor simply put her down in any way. Instead, he growled and threw her underhand over the clearing, where she fell right into Kili, sending the two of them tumbling to the ground.

Then, at that moment, all of the remaining twelve dwarves, led by Thorin, rushed into the clearing, yelling, weapons at the ready, Thorin already winging his sword to batt William's hand out of their way.

The twelve dwarves, thirteen once Kili managed to shake the girl off of him and roll to his feet, all ran around the troll camp, attacking and hacking away at the trolls. The creatures' thick hides prevented them from receiving much harm, but all three of them kept yelling, roaring and screeching in pain as the dwarves beat down upon them. The troll kept picking some of them up, only for the others to gang up until they dropped their friends.

Meanwhile, Snow finally managed to stand up amidst the chaos, and found herself searching for three things: One, Kili, who seemed to her to have suddenly vanished after the half-failed attempt to rescue her, though she quickly shook her head to ignore that thought. Two, the ponies she'd been trying to free in the first place, still whinnying in their pen, now frightened by the violent now occurring. And three, William's knife, which, when she found it, she was pleased to see it had somehow been knocked from his belt.

It was also halfway across the clearing, and between it and her was the group of dwarves fighting one of the trolls, Tom in this case.

Slowly and carefully, she dodged and ducked through the fighters, somehow managing to dodge a swing from Tom's arm as he attempted to either batt away Bifur or make a grab for her. Eventually she got through, and she picked up the long, curved knife with a finality-induced huff, before moving to dodge between the fights with Bert and William to get to the pony pens.

Meanwhile, the dwarves laid the smackdown upon the trolls. William picked up Nori by his staff, only for Ori to shoot his slingshot at him, causing him to recoil and drop the dwarf thief, before running after Ori. Thorin jumped off of Gloin's back to free Oin from Tom's clutches, causing the troll careening into the firepot, knocking the pot over and causing him severe pain. Dori whacked Bert in the crotch from behind and the troll cook collapsed to his knees, the pain preventing him from fighting back and stopping a swing from Dwalin from smashing out a number of his teeth.

Snow was relieved to find that, after all the trouble she had and caused, the knife cut right through the troll-rope, and she stood aside to let the mini-horses bolt from the pen to freedom.

Unbeknownst to her, Tom, who'd just somehow managed to escape the carnage the dwarves were inflicting on his brother trolls, noticed her standing where the ponies ran, and growled with fury before stomping towards her.

Fili ducked under a swing from William to get him to let go of Ori, the troll's recoil of pain sending the younger dwarf flying back to the edge of the clearing, sending him straight to the feet of Thorin and Balin. The prince turned at this, but saw something worse. Kili stumbled with the other dwarves to where the prince stood, and turned to see his uncle's stare, then looked up to see Tom and Bert holding Snow up taught by her arms and legs, the scared adventuress-in-training looking down upon the dwarves with fear in her eyes.

"Snow!" Kili shouted, and moved forward, only to be pulled back by his uncle.

"Lay down yer arms," Tom threatened. "Or we'ww wip 'er's off!"

It was a standoff. The dwarves could do anything without the trolls killing Snow, and the girl in question already had enough strain on her arms for her scared face to nearly be replaced by pain. The trolls held all the cards.

Finally, Thorin let out an annoyed breath and stabbed his sword into the ground. And while the others were hesitant to follow their leader AWAY from a fight, they knew they could do nothing without their burglar getting hurt. Grudgingly, all twelve remaining dwarves dropped or threw their weapons to the ground.

The trolls smirked, a truly gruesome sight.

They'd won. Their prize: Dinner.

* * *

**[1] Okay, so I kinda described what I thought I could remember, not the actual description of the area based on what's actually in the movie, but who cares?**

**[2] To anyone who says that I've got Tom and William mixed up: I didn't know which troll was which apart from Bert when I wrote the chapter, and I think the names they've got suit each of them better.**

**[3] toby7400: So, this is the precursor to your idea. I'll be slowly adding in bits over the course of ****Unexpected Journey**** before making a bigger deal of it in ****Desolation of Smaug****!**

**Yeah, I modified some of the scenes a bit to suit what I have in mind for Snow's character. She's not the same Snow white as the one from the Disney movie, but nor is she Bilbo. Therefore she's smarter, thinking more, paying more attention to the others and is a bit more inquisitive and curious than Bilbo.  
Plus when Gandalf stomped off in the movie he was walking back the way they'd come, despite the fact that he later said he'd gone to 'look ahead'.**

**So, that was a fun chapter to write! True, I was mainly watching the movie then novelising it, as I had with ****The Incredibles****, but the whole thing was still fun! Especially with the sequence of events, the modifications due to Snow, and you can't forget the trolls' dialogue! Though the disgusting stuff about William and Snow being sneezed on weren't the most dignified things to write about.**

**Anyway, the company is in a little bit of a pickle, aren't they?**

**Next Time: Chapter 8: Playing for Time**


	9. Chapter 8: Playing For Time

**Ginger Redwood: Wow, thanks for the support! And, no, your reviews aren't too long, one of my other reviewers does nice long reviews that are BRILLIANT for input. If you have something to say or ask, feel free to say it! I won't judge!  
I wish more of my readers liked BOTH of my stories, rather than just one.**

**UGH! I should be STUDYING! I have WAY too much homework to be doing this! Instead I'm HERE, pushing out another chapter of Snow White later than I was planning! Grr!**

**Anyway's, enough of that rant, enjoy!**

**Chapter 8: Playing for Time**

Within minutes the trolls had taken each and every one of the dwarves and dumped them into sacks, tying them in with their heads free, piling them up where there'd once been the pony-pen. They constructed a huge spit over the still-blazing fire, took half of the company and tied them all around the large log that acted as their spit. Bert was busy turning the wooden thing, while Tom had wondered off somewhere to gather more wood, and William watched the whole process with a fair amount of disinterest.

Snow, who had been one of those left in the pile, felt disgusting. Covered in troll bogies, dirt and trapped sweat, and a stench that made her want to retch. It wasn't that it was much worse than smells she'd encountered when cleaning the bathroom back at the castle, but more of the unusuallity of the horrid stench. Her travelling dress was, thankfully, not torn, though it _was_ a bit weathered, and she could feel her hair completely messed up and her red bow askew.

Safe to say, the next time the company found water, Snow would be taking a bath.

That is, if they lived at all to do so.

The worst of this night was the fact that there were three monstrous trolls constantly discussing how exactly they were going to cook and eat all fourteen members of the company. And with her sack wrapped so tightly that no matter how much she tried she could not get free, there wasn't really anything else to do but listen to the trolls' horrid topic of argument through the dwarves' cries.

"Don' bother cookin' 'em!" Willaim argued as he walked around the spit. "Let's jis' sit on 'em, and squash them into jelly!"

Snow grimaced. She would honestly prefer to be cooked. At least they wouldn't have to deal with the indignity of being squashed by the trolls' backsides.

"No!" Bert replied, reaching over to the dwarves on the spit. "They should be sautée' and grille', with a sprinkle of sage."

Nevermind. Either way sounded terribly painful.

"Oh!" William finally agreed. "Tha' does soun' quite nice!"

"Nevermin' the seasonin'!" Tom interrupted them impatiently. "We ain' go' all nigh'! Dawn ain' far away!"

That last bit caught Snow's attention, and she stopped her futile struggling to listen properly.

Tom moved to grab the free end of the spit, nervously looking up at the sky.

"Let's ge' a move on! I don' fancy being turne' to stone!"

Snow's eyes widened with realisation. Of course! Mountain or cave trolls turn to stone in daylight! Looking up to the treeline, or rather to a hill topped by a well-balanced, yet fairly inconveniently-placed rock, she could see the sky lit up, glowing with the oncoming sunrise. If she could just distract the trolls for perhaps fifteen more minutes…

"Wait! Wait!" She yelled, drawing all three trolls' attentions. "You're making a mistake! A very, VERY big mistake!"

"You can't reason with 'em, they're half-wits!" Dori yelled.

"HALF-wits!? What does that make US!?" Bofur countered.

Snow rolled her eyes, then rolled over onto her stomach to push herself to her feet. That in itself was a difficult feat, but it only got worse as she struggled to remain stable with her essentially bound feet on the not-flat sack bottom. Even still, she managed to turn herself around and hopped toward the trolls (against her maid side, which was screaming at her to run away), all the while racking her brains for anything that could distract the trolls.

"I mean with the, uhh… with the… with the seasoning!"

She faked a smile even as she could see where this would be going, and she was NOT looking forward to it.

"Wha' abou' the seasoning?" Bert asked, stepping away from the spit.

Snow said the first thing that came to her mind.

"Have you smelled them? You're going to need a bit more than sage to mask this stench!"

Mental slap. She was essentially 'betraying' the dwarves.

"Traitor!" Thorin yelled angrily, unknowingly agreeing with her.

Well, if it got them out of this alive, it was probably worth it.

"Oh, wha'd do YOU know abou' cookin' dwarf!?" Tom growled disbelievingly.

Her heart sank before Bert told him to shut up.

"Le' the, uhh… prrriberehaid talk." He said, leaning a bit too close to Snow for comfort.

She smiled nervously and spoke.

"U-uhh, the s-secret t-too cooking dwarf is… uhh…" she stuttered.

"Yes?"

She racked her brains again.

"…i-is… uhh…"

"Come on! Tell us the secret!"

"Yes! I'm telling you!" she insisted. "The secret is… too… skin them first!"

Yes! She'd thought of something! The secret to cooking dwarf is to skin… no, that's bad!

Hence the furious yells from all the dwarves, both in the pile behind her and on the spit in front of her, at whom she smiled apologetically.

"Tom, ge' me filletin' knife!" Bert ordered, smirking maliciously at the dwarf pile.

Oh, no no no no! Her face dropped. That wasn't what she meant to do! She needed to find some way to distract him again!

Luckily for her, Tom's disbelievingness intervened.

"Wha' a load of wubbish!" he declared, and Bert chuckled in agreement. "I've ea'en plen'y with their skins on! Scoff 'em I say, boots an' all!"

But what he'd said next might be a problem. She looked away, trying to think through the fog of fear to get SOMETHING that might get them completely distracted for just another eight minutes.

Then she caught sight of a familiar staff and blue-grey cloak scurrying through the bushes around the camp site, making their way to the rock on the hill. There must be something he could do to speed up the process if he was heading there. She looked up to the rock. The sun was definitely shining RIGHT behind it.

She smiled inside. She only had to hold the trolls for a minute at most.

Her attention was drawn back to the trolls as William said with realisation: "'E's right!"

To her horror, she saw the younger troll stomping around the fire to the dwarf-pile.

"Nothin' wrong with a li'le raw dwarf!" he said. "Nice an' crunchy!"

He reached past her and grabbed Bombur, lifting the fattest of the dwarves above his head, smirking and licking his lips as Bombur cowered above him. He began lowing him, sack and all, toward his mouth…

"NO DON'T DO THAT HE'S INFECTED!"

Snow's yell came just in time, and William looked to her with fearing disgust.

"You wha'?" Tom said.

"Yes!" Snow all but shouted. "He's got worms in his… tubes!"

She honestly couldn't believe she'd just said that. It sounded really disgusting, entirely undignifying, and incredibly unladylike.

Luckily, disgust was what she was going for.

"UGH!" William yelled, and dropped Bombur back to the pile, where he knocked the breath out of Kili and Oin.

Seeing William's reaction gave Snow an idea.

"In fact, they ALL have!" she exclaimed. "They're infested with parasites! And as a maid who knows her way around a kitchen and good foods, I really wouldn't risk it."

Tom grimaced, and for a moment Snow thought she was winning.

Then Oin HAD to complain.

"Parasites!? Did she say parasites!?"

"We don't have parasites!" Kili joined in angrily, and Snow rolled her eyes and groaned quietly.

HE got them into this mess, he should at least appreciate HER trying to get them out!

Unfortunately the rest of the dwarves joined in, and within seconds the camp with full of the shouts of dwarves denying having parasites.

'_Hurry up, Gandalf!_' she thought desperately.

But Thorin could see what she was doing at last, understanding crossing his face. Discretely, he did his best to move his foot back inside his sack and kick Kili's back. The dwarves shut up and turned to see his pointed look. Then they looked to Snow, finally understanding. Desperately, they started shouting again, this time with:

"I've got parasites as big as my arm!" Oin yelled.

"Mine are the biggest parasites, I've got HUGE parasites!" Kili added.

"I've got nits!"

The trolls looked on in disgust and a bit of fright as the dwarves complained about their non-existent parasites, completely oblivious to the fact that they'd just heard them rebuking just the same thing.

Kili was right about one thing: Trolls WERE stupid!

"We're riddled!"

"Yes we are, badly!"

Tom moved toward Snow as Bert took over the spit.

"Wha' would you 'ave us do, then?" he asked irritably. "Le' 'em all go!?"

"That _might _be the best course of action." Snow agreed, smiling slightly.

Then Tom poked her in the chest, nearly sending her stumbling to the ground again.

"You think I don' know wha' your up to!?" he growled.

And Snow watched, fearful frown returned, as Tom moved back to his end of the spit and spoke to the other trolls.

"This li'le ferret is takin' us for fools!"

"Ferret!?" William wondered.

"Fools!?" Bert said incredulously.

'_Come on, Gandalf!_'

"THE DAWN WILL TAKE YOU ALL!"

And just as she thought that, the wizard made his appearance. He moved to stand on top of the rock, looking down into the clearing and camp at the trolls as he roared at them. His voice boomed out from where he stood on the rock, magically enhanced to intimidate, or at least draw the attention of the dim-witted trolls. And it worked too. All three trolls turned to look up at the grey-cloaked traveller in confusion.

"Who's 'at?" Tom asked.

"No idea." Bert answered.

"Can we ea' 'im too?" William said.

And thus the trolls spoke their final words, for Gandalf raised his staff in the air, then stepped aside and slammed the end into the rock, cracking it in two. The end he stood on stayed where it was, but the other fell away, letting the blinding morning sun shine through onto the assembled trolls, dwarves and Snow.

The affect was instantaneous. William roared with pain as the light hit him, and he and the other trolls stumbled back in the blazing bright sun. They held their arms up in reflex, as if they could block out the sun, and if they could shield themselves from the sun's rays they could prevent themselves from changing. But it was for naught. Within seconds, the trio had crumpled and collapsed, freezing in place in the camp surrounding the spit, never to move again.

And with that, the three monstrous trolls were no more.

The company of dwarves burst into cheers, cheering to Gandalf for his timely reappearance, cheering to Snow for her successful plan to stall the trolls, and cheering the fact that they had not been eaten. Thorin merely smiled gratefully up at Gandalf, but the meaning behind it was the same.

They were saved.

* * *

In the minutes following, Gandalf put out the great fire, untied the dwarves on the spit and helped to pull each of the others from their sacks and to their feet. The company thanked him, and he watched as they gathered their weapons and items, most of which had been scattered around the camp, though some things had appeared to have gone missing. Thorin's sword was nowhere to be found.

Even so, Gandalf smiled as the company reasserted themselves, and turned to move out of the area with them, but not before giving a playful whack to one of the new troll statues that now stood in the clearing.

The company moved out, heading back to the old farmer's shack to collect their packs, pots and bowls so they could start that day's travelling, eager to get a move on despite not having gotten any sleep that night. Better to move tired during the day than sleep and have to brave the night, with the possibility of encountering orcs.

Snow smiled a tired and elated smile as she walked. Most of the dwarves had ignored or simply forgotten the fact that she'd helped, most of them thanking the wizard for his re-appearance. Not that she minded, of course, that Balin and Bofur were the only ones so far to praise her quick thinking. After all, she'd suffered much worse than lack of credit for a whole decade.

She frowned as her maid side took over her again. She shouldn't be thinking so ill of those years. Furthermore, she shouldn't really be enjoying all this adventure now. After all, she was only a maid.

"Told you I'd be right behind you!"

An annoying voice drew her attention to the young, troublesome dwarf prince who had moved to walk beside her. Kili was smirking playfully down at her as they walked, his presence too close for comfort. She moved slightly away as she retorted:

"You WEREN'T right behind me! You just vanished and hoped for the best until I was nearly dinner for three hungry trolls!" she berated angrily.

"Kili was watching from the woods the whole time!" Fili defended him from his position on her other side. She turned on him.

"Well then where were you!? And what happened to 'best not worry Thorin'!?" she grilled.

"Three monstrous trolls!" he replied.

"You see," Kili told her. ", I stayed and watched from the clearing edge while you did your best to free the ponies, while Fili ran back and warned uncle of the trolls! It went perfectly!"

"If by perfectly you mean 'got us all captured', then yes, it was utterly splendid!"

"Thank you very much for agreeing!" Kili cheeked.

Snow groaned and walked faster, eager to get away from the most infuriating dwarf, or person, she'd ever met. Granted she'd only met thirteen dwarves thus far, and there may be worse ones out there, but Kili was by far the worst of the company.

So instead she moved forward to join the silent Balin as they reached the overgrown paddock the ponies were situated in.

Or, WERE situated in.

Thorin and Gandalf, where had been talking at the front of the company at they trudged back through the woods, looked confusedly out into the groves to only see undergrowth, trees and the broken-down cart. No equines but the horse Gandalf had ridden away on.

"Where are the ponies?" Thorin asked in his grumpy voice.

"They must've been scared off by the trolls." Dwalin surmised.

Thorin sighed in resignation.

"Then it seems we'll be travelling on foot from now on."

Many of the dwarves, Bombur especially, groaned at the thought that they'd have to be walking for the rest of the few hundred miles they had yet to travel to reach the mountain. Most of it would be over rough terrain that would be uncomfortable for their feet, and not to mention that some of them (Bombur) were too fat and unfit to travel that far and for that long without rest.

Unfortunate, Snow knew, but they would all have to just bear with it and keep going if they were to reach the mountain.

'_Besides,_' Snow thought, "_, I have no problem with walking._"

The company finally reached their barely used campsite and moved to pack up their travelling packs. Pots, bowls, spoons and unused rugs and blankets were carefully rolled up and tied away, along with any of their weapons and items they had been able to return from the troll camp. Oin luckily still had his hearing aid, but Thorin's sword was still missing.

Her travelling pack finally back on her back, and with her hair and bow back in place and feeling much better despite her and her dress still being mucky from the night before, Snow stepped over to where Thorin and Gandalf were having a conversation.

"Where did you go to, if I may ask?" Thorin spoke to the wizard.

"To look ahead." He replied simply.

"What brought you back?" Snow butted in.

"Looking behind." He stated.

Both the dwarf and the maid nodded.

"Nasty business." Gandalf stated solemnly. "Still, you're all in one piece!"

"No thanks to your burglar."

Thorin shot an annoyed smile at Snow, and she frowned in return to this rudeness. He may be a prince, but that shouldn't give him the right to be rude about her in front of her.

"She had the nous to play for time." Thankfully Gandalf came to her defence, and she glowed in the praise. "None of the rest of you thought of that."

Thorin had to agree, and grudgingly nodded his acceptance of that, a small smile gracing his lips.

Gandalf, meanwhile, had turned to look back in the direction they'd come, the direction of the troll camp, an intrigued frown on his face.

"They must have come down from the Ettenmoors." Gandalf concluded, his ancient knowledge coming of use.

Both Snow and Thorin glanced up at him, both knowing that the Ettenmoors were at the far north edge of Arnor, the main region of Eriador.

"Since when do mountain trolls venture this far south?" Thorin wondered.

"Ohh, not for an age!"

Then Gandalf's expression became troubled.

"Not since a darker power ruled these lands…"

Both glanced concernedly up at the wizard as he gazed absently past them. They knew what darker power had been in rule of Eriador, and all of Middle Earth thousands of years ago. The dark lord Sauron, former lord of Mordor. He had ruled the world he had conquered with an iron fist, until a last alliance of men and elves march upon the armies of Mordor, and by the hand of prince Isildur of Gondor he had fallen, his ring of power destroyed in the fires of mount doom.

But if the trolls were returning, and that meant that some dark power was rising, who could it be but him? **[1]**

Gandalf's expression became curious as he thought, turning to look back toward the troll camp.

"They could not have moved in daylight." He stated.

Thorin's eyes lit up. "There must be a cave nearby!" he realised.

The dwarf leader directed the others to search the area around the troll camp, searching for any sign of some hovel or hole in the ground large enough for trolls to enter. If they found that, there may be some loot they could find, perhaps swords, daggers, and most importantly, gold.

It only took minutes for Nori to find the cave, a crumbling hole in the ground with the overbearing reek of decay. Snow stood back from it, her nostrils aching. First the troll bogies and now this? This was NOTHING like anything she'd had to deal with back at the castle.

Gandalf led a party of Thorin, Nori, Bofur, Gloin and Dwalin inside with torches, leaving the rest to wait outside, wanting to avoid the stench. Snow watched them enter before turning and moving to sit down on one of the logs the trolls had upturned, removing her pack and setting it down to the side for the moment.

* * *

"Ugh, what's that stench!?" Nori grumbled as he and the other five entered the cave.

"It's a troll hoard." The wizard at the front of the troop replied, before warning, "Be careful what you touch."

Heeding his words, the five dwarves behind him, including their leader Thorin, coughed and gagged at the horrid odour as they stepped further into the cave. As the neared the bottom, they could see some of the sources of the smell; there was a broken cart of bones, including skulls and femurs, collapsed in the nook of the one bend in the cave, and the floor was rich in mould and decaying leaf-matter.

Surrounding the walls of the troll hoard were various things the trolls had collected during their stay there. Furs, clothes, more troll-rope, bits of the farmer's equipment, boxes of cloth and loot, and silverware and cups scattered in a pile on the floor. Surrounding the relatively clear bottom of the whole place were a number of barrels containing old, dusty weapons, covered in cobwebs and seeming as old as the world itself.

But the attentions of the thief and the accountant were drawn when Bofur stumbled into a scattered pile of gold coins partway down. Staring down in awe, he placed his torch to the side and gazed at the gold, drawing his foot across it.

"Seems a shame just to leave it lying around." He said wistfully. "Anyone could take it!"

Gloin, who'd moved to inspect a small chest, nearly filled with even more gold, looked up with an almost greedy smile.

"Agreed!" he said. "Nori, get a shovel!"

Meanwhile, as Dwalin watched from his bored position at the edge of the cleared-out bottom of the hoard, the wizard and the prince examined the stash of equipment and weapons at the back wall, Gandalf shifting aside bits of things with the butt of his staff. Thorin picked up an old arrow with apparent disinterest, then he began to turn away to exit the cave.

But then something caught his eye. In the last barrel there was an assortment of swords tossed in by the trolls. Most seemed old and rusty and not good of use, but there were two there that were different. A straight scabbard stood in the barrel, and a silver handle shined above it from amongst its cobwebs, not a speck of dust on it. It gleamed in the torchlight, glowing as if new, drawing the dwarf's gaze to it from where he stood.

He placed his torch aside and reached into the barrel to pick up the clean-as-new weapon. It was lighter than a dwarf sword, yet felt as strong at the toughest mithril. The crossguard was curved slightly towards the blade, and he could see designs on the sheath and handle, not any that he recognised but still intriguing. The scabbard itself suggested a long, straight blade, sharp on both sides, and one that would stand out in a way when raised that would perhaps be owned by a just leader.

Captivated, he reached back to the barrel to retrieve the second weapon. This one was not like the other, for it was not straight, but curved like half of a leaf. The off-centre handle attached to the one curved crossguard, then the blade bowed in with the leather scabbard, before flowing out in a sharp cutting blade. This sheath and handle too, like the other sword, had intricate designs on it, as if it were made to be beautiful, rather than as a weapon.

"These swords were not made by any troll." He commented in mystified awe as he felt Gandalf approach.

The wizard turned to him, and took the straighter blade as Thorin handed it out to him. Gandalf examined the weapon himself, intrigued, especially as he looked at its design and shape.

"Nor were they made by any smith among men." Gandalf added.

Then, blowing lightly on the crossguard at the end of the scabbard, he lightly held the handly and drew the sword out a few inches.

His eyes widened as he saw the metal blade, shining silver as if new, and the inscription, language and design that embellished its enthralling shape.

"These were forged in Gondolin!" Gandalf realised, "By the high elves of the first age!"

He turned to the dwarf prince, who had begun to reach for the handle of his own, only to be disappointed as Thorin hesitated. Then the dwarf threw a glare at the wizard at the mention of the elves' land of origin, and moved to return the sword to the barrel.

"You could not wish for a finer blade!" Gandalf chided.

At that Thorin looked up to him once more. Almost without a second thought, he reached back to the handle, and drew his own sword to see the blade that came with it. The elven designs curved along its surface, just as they had on the leather sheath, but the one sharp edge certainly was one to be appreciated.

Gandalf dropped his sward back into the scabbard, and smiled to himself as he moved away to remove its cobwebs. Thorin moved along with him, examining his scabbard's designs in his torchlight in growing awe while stepping around Bofur, Nori and Gloin as they finished burying the now over-stuffed chest into the dirty and mouldy floor of the cave.

Finally Thorin turned to the remaining four dwarves, including Dwalin, who was quite unimpressed by the treasure burial, and urged them to "get out of this foul place."

And Gandalf moved to follow them, when he stopped at the sound of shifting metal beneath his foot. Looking down, he moved the end of his staff to shift aside the dirt and mould and bits of leaf and plant matter that covered the troll hoard to find what he'd stepped upon.

It had a handle, scabbard and bladem the shape of a sword, only the size that most would call a dagger. Its silver designs shone up at him, even as he moved his staff to push up at the crossguard to reveal yet another elven blade.

It was the sword of a hobbit.

* * *

"Snow!"

Snow turned from her position next to Dori and Ori at the call of the wizard as he finally returned from the cave, far behind the five dwarves. He now had an ornate belt and blade strapped around his cloak, and in his hands he was carrying something.

"Here," he said, handing it out to her. ", this is about your size."

It was little more than a dagger, but to someone of her size it was a broadsword. Shaped like a leaf, with beautiful silver motifs along the hilt ending in a silver pommel, its crossguard curved slightly toward the leather-bound blade.

Gandalf kept it held out to her, waiting, and, reluctantly, she took it into her hands. It was lighter than she thought, even easier to lift than the broom-pole she still had, now strapped to her traveling pack.

She stared at it, her mind at war between being flattered and thankful of the gift, one that would most certainly protect her if they were attacked by orcs, and her mid side urging her to refuse it. She'd could never accept such a beautiful gift, and nor had she used a proper weapon before.

But even worse, she could not kill.

She sighed, looking back up at Gandalf.

"I can't take this." She told him, holding it politely back to him.

Gandalf didn't reach back disappointedly, but merely spoke again.

"The blade is of elvish make," he told her, ", which means it will glow blue when orcs or goblins are nearby."

She didn't really need him to tell her that, having read about the famed swordsmiths of Gondolin who had made such weapons. But she glanced back at the sword and then away from both it and the wizard in discomfort of his persistence.

"Gandalf!" she chided, staring up at him. "Lilliana the Bullroarer may have slain the goblin king, but I have never used a sword in my life!"

She looked into the wizard's eyes, hoping that he'd understand.

"I can't be a killer!" she pressed quietly with a shake of her head.

"And I hope you'll never have to be." he said solemnly. "If anything it will give you a good warning during such dangers, but if you ever do find yourself in need of the sharp edges, remember this: true courage is not knowing when to take a life, but when to spare one."

She drank in his words and looked back down at the leather scabbard, not knowing or realising that she would take these words to heart, and they would guide her for the rest of her life.

Gandalf smiled at her fondly as she thought this over, before quietly moving away toward where Thorin now stood with Balin.

Slowly, she moved to hold the sheath in her left hand, and reached to draw the blade with her right. It slid easily out of the leather, not so smoothly that it could fall out at any time, but not so stiff that she couldn't draw it. As it came fully out of the holster, she turned it to point upwards and stared at it in wonder.

The sword shone bright in the sunlight that flittered through the trees around them, its silvery metal gleaming up at her. An elvish design shaped like a growing sapling curved smoothly along the blade, coming to a stop at the in the middle of the weapon, while a grove grew long and straight from the hilt to the tip. The sword was well balanced, its weight centring not far beyond the crossguard down the blade, and the handle fit well in her hand, fitting snugly in her palm and fingers. It was, well part of her would say that it was perfect, a weapon fit for a Dúnedain princess.

She stared at its beauty with surprised wonder, not having thought that such a dangerous and terrible thing could be so beautiful. Even as it gleamed white in the morning air. No, blue. It was glowing… blue.

Her eyes widened.

Her started head shot up as something animal called out through the woods, and she didn't fail to notice Bofur and some of the others looking up in fear.

"What was that?" she asked. "W-was that a wolf!?"

"No." Bofur replied, and Snow was startled to see that Bofur looked _terrified_. "No that is not a wolf!"

The snapping of twigs and the growling of a beast urged everyone to turn to look to the top of the hill where the cave entrance sat, and many of the dwarves gasped in fright, and Snow could not blame them when she saw what was there.

It was a grotesque beast. As long as a horse, with brown, matted fur adorning its flanks, and long, strong legs bred for hunting. A mane of messy hairs arose along its back to its head, a head which was framed with large pointed ears for hearing any rustle on the ground, and disorderly fringes surrounding its jaw. But worse of the terrifying image was the long snout surrounding the ferocious sharp teeth, and above that the V-shaped nose and snivelling, evil eyes. Indeed it was not a wolf.

It was an orc-mount. A warg.

* * *

**[1] Just to let you know, Sauron is NOT the villain of this story. You'll see when I get to all the secondary plot stuff in ****Desolation of Smaug****.  
And yes, the One Ring is destroyed, which makes Snow's ring that she'll eventually find a powerless one, minus the invisibility.**

**I do recall myself saying at one point that I'd only do things from the POV of Snow in this series. The problem with that is that when we get much later on, some characters POVs will be very useful, especially in the final chapters of ****The Battle of the Five Armies****. THAT's why I wrote the scene in the troll hoard.**

**Trivia: A preliminary title for this chapter was 'Troll Hoard'.**

**Trivia 2: the scene in the troll hoard was actually written twice. I wrote it the first time, then got into conflict with myself over whether I should actually have it and copied it out, only for me to restart my computer and delete it without a trace. So the version here is actually the second time written.**

**I'm annoyed that this one was shorter than I expected. Really! The 'playing for time' part was left than half the chapter! The 'Troll Hoard' title probably would've been better!**

**Next Time: Chapter 9: Orc Hunt**


	10. Chapter 9: Orc Hunt

**SO sorry for being so long everyone! Three weeks! It's the holidays here, and I've never been the best at working at home, and exams messed me up and a whole load of things.**

**Anyway, I'm back now, and everything's fine. Thank you, all of you, for being so patient (unlike the followers of ****Big Hero Glitch****)!**

**Now, you'll find that the chase with the orcs is a bit different than in the movie for a very specific reason. Read and see, and above all, enjoy!**

**Chapter 9: Orc Hunt**

The warg leapt off the top of the cave-entrance, charging at the assembled company. In an instant, the orc-mount had toppled Dori, bowling him over, and then stood over him, leering in for the kill. But Thorin was quicker, and using his new elvish blade he slashed at the warg's neck, sending it to the ground.

But everyone noticed a second warg trampling down the slope opposite them, taking advantage of the bowl in the earth the company had moved into, seeing them as an easy target. Thorin moved to pull his sword out of the first's neck, only for it to get stuck in the warg's thick hide.

"KILI!" The prince shouted.

His archer-nephew reacted immediately loosing an arrow that, once it struck, sent the wag tumbling to the side, careening down and knocking it's head on an out-sticking tree trunk. A quick slam from Dwalin's hammer put it out of its misery.

Thorin finally managed to pull his blade from the first dead warg.

"Warg scouts!" he announced with malice and fear. "Which means an orc pack is not far behind!"

The twelve remaining dwarves looked around at each other and the surrounding crests of the bowl they'd trapped in, fear definite on their faces.

Snow just looked down in horror. She knew there was only one reason there could be orcs chasing them. The ones from the raid on the castle were still after her, and they would stop at nothing to pursue her, and those with her.

"Oh no." she muttered.

"Who did you tell about your quest, beyond your kin!?" Gandalf stepped toward Thorin.

This was all her fault.

"What have I done?" she asked herself quieter than any of the others could hear.

"No one." Thorin answered the wizard.

"WHO DID YOU TELL!?"

"No one, I swear!" Thorin insisted, then asked, "What in Durin's name is going on!?"

Gandalf looked up to scan the forested hilltops.

"You are being hunted." He replied gravely.

Snow set her jaw. There was no doubting it now.

"We have to get out of here!" Dwalin breathed, and Snow noticed that he sounded and looked scared, something Dwalin didn't normally become.

But Ori didn't help, as he squeaked down from his position:

"We can't! We have no ponies! They bolted!"

Snow closed her eyes with a sigh as she remembered that the ponies had vanished, ran from the trolls when she set them free.

'_Ungrateful b-_'

Everyone started as another warg roared, this one not too far away. If they could run as fast as the first two with orcs on their backs, they'd be there within minutes. Hope now seemed fleeting.

There was one chance for the company, Snow decided sadly. She was the one they were after. If she could draw their attention and lead them away from the dwarves, she may buy them enough time to get away. She would be done for, but there was nothing she could do about that.

But barely before she could open her mouth:

"Go!" Gandalf ordered them all. "I'll draw them off!"

They all turned their attention to the wizard.

"Those are Gundabad wargs!" Thorin told him, though he probably already knew. "They will outrun you!"

"No." Gandalf refuted calmly. "My horse is swift and strong. Shadowfax has been my friend through many dangers." **[1]**

Snow sighed quietly in relief. She'd forgotten that Gandalf still had his snow-white horse that he'd travelled with them on so far. She could only hope that his claim wasn't just a claim.

Gandalf reached inside his cloak and pulled out a large piece of parchment, smooth as the daw it was made, and reached out to hand it to Snow. She took it, and saw that it was a map, of the wilderness between Bree and the Misty Mountains, with a cross marked at a band of rocks not far from where the farmer's hut was.

"Snow," he told her. ", follow this map, do not go astray. I will meet you at the rocks."

Snow looked up and nodded to acknowledge him.

"Now go!" he ordered. "GO!"

* * *

Snow and the dwarves ran, running up the slope in the opposite direction that the warg had sounded from, but in a different direction to Gandalf. Up the slope, through the troll camp, circling around the overgrown paddock and the shack and out of the woods they ran, and only when they found a large rock on the plains did they run behind it and stop, and only then did Snow, who was at the front of the group, look down at the map to point them in the right direction.

According to the map, the land between them and the rocks Gandalf mentioned, which she assumed were the ones at the cross-mark, was entirely open plains, where they could easily be picked out by the orcs. Their only protection from their sight would be the number of large boulders, not unlike the one they currently stood behind, scattered about the grassland, and the hills that dotted the plains.

Snow, having successfully made bearing of their location, looked up to point the dwarves behind her in the direction they were to be going in, then carefully peeked around the rock to look for the wizard.

Sure enough, out Gandalf appeared from the woods, riding upon Shadowfax's bare back, followed by the offending pack of six orcs, each one riding a warg. Snow's heart sank slightly when she saw that there were more than the six riding-wargs, for eight of the beasts rode aft the wizard, away from the woods and, thankfully, the company.

Once the orcs were too far away to notice them, Snow turned back to the dwarves.

"Come on." She said.

And they ran again, out from behind the rocks and across the plains. Snow led them to the next band of rocks roughly between them and their destination, just in case the orcs ran back or noticed them or Gandalf accidently drew them past them again, or something to that effect.

* * *

The company kept running away, whilst elsewhere three more wargs joined the chase after the wizard, one coming at him from ahead forcing him to turn his horse away to avoid the orc-mount. Shadowfax circled around one of the larger rocks, dodging this way and that as eleven wargs and six orcs maneuverer to block his way and keep him from making an escape, completely oblivious to the reason behind his scheme.

After one particularly precarious swerve, the snow-white horse just barely avoided a charging warg, and the beast's momentum sending it tumbling and crashing into the grass, and sending its orc-rider flying.

And Gandalf stoically kept going, with as much determination as his horse, keeping away from the orcs and keeping the company from being discovered, all the while keeping headed in roughly the right direction to get to the rocks he so determined as their destination.

* * *

The company kept running, Snow and Thorin in the lead with the map and the strongest sword of them all at the ready, running around the next set of rocks and changing course with Snow's guidance, towards the next hiding-spot on their path to freedom.

But as they rounded the corner, Thorin stopped them. It was for good reason, as it turned out, for Shadowfax ran past, not fifty feet away, the hoard of wargs right on his silvery tail.

Thorin turned to the company.

"Stay together." He ordered.

And the company ran back the way they came, with the intent to run back around the rocks and try again from the other-side. To make heading for a smaller, but further away rock that could be their last stop before the last home-stretch.

* * *

Gandalf ducked as Shadowfax swerved under an overhanging rock on his command, and good attempt to throw off the chasing hoard, though Gandalf of course hoped that if he did indeed escape they wouldn't train their attentions to the company once more. To his luck, one orc was indeed knocked from its warg, though the mount itself righted itself and kept up the chase. There were now only four orc-hunters on his tail.

* * *

The company finally ran out from the opposite side of the rocks, only, to their dismay, the distracting chase had circled back around to cut them off once more. Thorin yelled for them to turn back again, grabbing Ori's travelling pack as the younger dwarf nearly ran on.

* * *

A new set of obstacles, a set of outcropping rocks. Dodging this way and that like a sparrow in the forest, Shadowfax used his incredible agility, sending the wargs, now nine, then eight, tumbling to the side and crashing into the rocks. Gandalf kept stoic, but he couldn't help but feel the thrill of the chase as his plan worked.

"Come on." Snow said. "Keep going."

She directed the dwarves to their next hiding spot, and sure enough twelve of the company followed her directions, leading the way to the sloped rock. Thorin stayed back however, and turned to the adventuress-in-training with a tired scowl.

"Where are you leading us?" he demanded.

Snow did nothing else but shrug and shake her head, for even she was clueless at to Gandalf's intentions on directing them to that little cross on the map.

Still she turned and followed Balin, Thorin making the back of the pack, and they kept going as fast as they could, hoping to make it there undetected.

* * *

Unfortunately for them, even as they thought this, one of the four remaining orcs in the pack stopped his warg and gazed out at the grasslands, sniffing as he caught the scent of dwarf in the clear autumn air. It moved its head from side to side, pinpointing exactly where to find them.

* * *

Running quickly, the company climbed up and over the next domed rock, jumping down the side and back onto the grass, only to turn again as Gandalf and the orcs raced ahead of them once again. They hid behind the next hiding spot, now safe again for now from the orc hunt.

But not completely safe, they realised.

The thundering gallop of warg paws above and behind them drew their attention to the rock they now hid next to. The growling and sniffing of the dark beast, the grating sound of a blade drawn from its sheath, the paw-steps moving around above them.

Thorin could look up and see with his own eyes, the one orc that now towered above them, searching for them. If that orc found them it would signal the others, and then they would be in serious trouble.

Keeping deathly silent, Thorin turned his head to Kili, who stood by his side, and nodded. The archer took his meaning and, face set, grabbed an arrow and readied his bow. At the right moment, he ran out and turned to fire an arrow right at the warg's heart. But his quick movement had drawn the orc's attention, and by the time the dwarf could loose the arrow, the warg had moved to catch it in its shoulder.

The warg began growling and turning, then toppled off the rock as another shot struck the orc rider dead in the chest. They both screeched loudly.

* * *

Elsewhere across the plains, the entire pack of orcs and wargs stopped in their tracks, giving up their chase of the wizard to hear their fallen comrade's dying cries.

* * *

The orc leapt up, screeching madly with its jagged excuse of a sword in hand and ran, enraged, at the company, only for a swift blow from Dwalin to fell it completely.

* * *

The yells of both orc and warg were easily picked up by the pack, and they could easily tell where it came from, even as they heard the slash of blade through flesh from the distance.

"_The dwarf-scum are over there!_" The orc leader announced to its remaining pack-members.

"_AFTER THEM!_"

* * *

The yowling and howling of the wargs echoed throughout the plains again, and as the dwarves finished off the warg Snow and Thorin turned in fear to where it was coming from.

It was getting louder, and therefore closer. The orcs were on their tail.

"MOVE!" Thorin yelled, the need for stealth now forfeit. "RUN!"

The remaining dwarves didn't need it saying twice as the fourteen members of the company took off, running as fast as they could as Snow directed them on the final sprint to the finish, to the rocks marked with a cross they had run so urgently to get to.

And then it was a mad dash across nearly open plains, flat as parchment, with only few conifers for cover, with the pack of orcs charging after the company of dwarves.

The pack split up, a few of the riderless wargs running ahead to cut the dwarves off. On all sides they converged, and oh so close to their destination was when Gloin shouted:

"THERE THEY ARE!"

A second later, Snow too turned to see another group of the fierce beasts running through the sparse trees to their standing spot. Thinking quickly, she took point of where they were and began running toward the rocks.

"THIS WAY!" she shouted. "QUICK!"

The dwarves followed her as they made the final dash there to find the jagged boulder they'd so dutifully been directed to by the adventuress-maid and the wizard. They were within metres of it when Thorin stopped, coming face-to-face with the leader of the orcs, positioned only thirty feet ahead of him.

Kili turned around where he was, at the back of the group, then yelled back to Thorin:

"THERE'S MORE COMING!"

Indeed, the entire pack of orcs and wargs now encircled the company, cutting them off at all sides, surrounding them and the rock they'd come this way to get to.

"KILI!" Thorin barked. "SHOOT THEM!"

"WE'RE SURROUNDED!" Fili announced, turning back to face their oncoming hunters.

Kili managed to shoot one of the three remaining orcs from its warg, but no sooner than he did that did the fallen riders that had toppled during the chase return to the hunt, and the dwarves moved closer together, closer to the rock as the orcs began to advance.

"WHERE'S GANDALF!?" Bofur yelled.

"HE'S ABANDONED US!" Dwalin realised.

Indeed, Snow had seen no sign of the wizard or his horse since they'd first been spotted. Gandalf had vanished, and with him any hope of rescue or escape.

The orc leader glowed in anticipation, and urged his warg onward into the hunt. Defiantly, Ori loosed a stone from his slingshot, only for the orc-mount to shrug it off like nothing. The orc leader laughed at the young dwarf's failure, and Ori backed down with fear.

"HOLD YOUR GROUND!" Thorin ordered, drawing his elvish blade.

While the sword gleamed in the sunlight, it did little to make the pack back down by any amount.

They were surrounded. They were cut off from escape. Any attempt would be met with death. Gandalf had vanished. All he'd done was send them by the map in Snow's hand to the rocks, then left them to die. There was nothing to do but make a futile stand.

Snow dropped the map, and drew her sword and broom-pole from her belt and pack and held them up at the ready, although she did not quite know how to use the blade.

She was scared. She was VERY scared. Her maid side was screaming at her but there was nothing she could do but stand and hope for a miracle...

"THIS WAY, YOU FOOLS!"

All fourteen members of the company turned to the rocks, just in time to see a familiar, pointed, grey-blue hat disappear down _into_ the rocks.

'_No, not in the rocks._' Snow realised. 'Between _them._'

"COME ON, MOVE!" Thorin ordered.

On his command, all of them ran forward and jumped over the smaller rocks that hid the barely visible hole in the ground, between the rocks and into the earth. One-by-one they jumped, Thorin waiting for the last dwarf before he followed.

Seeing the dwarves seemingly vanish away down in front of them, the orc leader commanded his pack to advance. One of the wargs charged at the rocks, but Thorin slashed at it with his weapon, sending it to the ground, and he watched out for more as the last few dwarves jumped down.

Snow reached the bottom of the sandy pit and looked up. Gandalf was standing, grey robes and all, counting the company to make sure they didn't miss one. Ten so far he'd counted, now waiting only for Bofur, Fili, Kili and Thorin to follow.

Snow was only relieved that he hadn't truly abandoned them.

Another orc fell from its warg to Kili's arrow as he, determined, stood his ground to try and take out every last one. However this only made things worse, as now there were more and more angry, riderless wargs ready to leap forward and attack without order. But Kili still stood only until his uncle ordered him back, and the dwarf archer ran back to the rocks and followed his brother into the hole, his uncle right behind him.

Now the pack was charging with earnest, the three remaining orcs leading on into the charge to get to the rocks and end the dwarves once and for all. The dwarves turned and looked up the entrance, now slightly more ready to fight them off if they found them and came down.

But no orcs came. Instead something else was heard. A horn of some kind, a war instrument calling across the grasslands, like nothing Snow had ever heard. Then the sound of arrows flying through the air and striking through the armour and flesh of the orcs and wargs echoed though the entrance and into the pit where the company stood, listening, confused. Hooves followed, then the sound of swards swinging and slicing, the bane of the orc pack.

All of a sudden, and orc came rolling down through the entrance, tumbling down to the ground, where the dwarves parted to let it roll to a stop. In caution, Gandalf held his sword to it, but it wasn't necessary. The orc was dead, slain by the arrow sticking out of its chest.

The sound of hooves died down, signalling that their saviours had left, which meant that the orcs were either dead or had fled.

Thorin pulled said arrow from its skin, and quickly dropped it with disgust as he recognised the design and metal.

"Elves!" he announced with loathing.

Gandalf turned and gazed his own disgust at the dwarf prince, still upset with his contempt for the eldar race. Thorin shot his own, slightly horrified expression back, somehow shocked and angry that they had been saved by elves.

Then Dwalin called out from somewhere nearby. Snow now realised that they were not just in a pit in the ground, but a tunnel, for a hall of rough-cut stone led out from the back of the cave to who knew where.

"I cannot see where the pathway leads!" Dwalin told them, before asking, "Do we follow it or no!?"

"Follow it of course!" Was Bofur's immediate still-frightened reply.

And so the thirteen dwarves hurried down the path, followed behind by the wizard and the adventuress-maid. And so it was only Snow who heard the wizard as he said:

"I think that would be wise."

Snow looked up at him with interest at this, even as she sheathed her blade and re-packed her broom-pole.

And so she, Gandalf and the dwarves travelled on, Snow silently lamenting the fact that she'd lost Gandalf's map.

* * *

**[1] I wanted to use Shadowfax at some point in the story, as I won't be doing ****The Lord of the Rings****, and since I'm not having Radagast turn up until later this was the perfect opportunity to use him.**

**So, this chapter was a bit shorter than usual. That's okay I s'pose. Originally I was going to end it when the company exited the pathway to find Rivendell (spoilers), but seeing as this chapter is called 'Orc Hunt', I figured I'd just leave it there.**

**Oh well, just means I already have a good start to the next chapter written down and ready!**

**Next Time: Chapter 10: The Last Homely House**


	11. Chapter 10: The Last Homely House

**I don't have much to say here. Enjoy!**

**Chapter 10: The Last Homely House**

It was an hour that the fifteen fellows travelled the elongated crevice, yet it did not feel like so. If felt barely fifteen minutes and yet Snow could tell the sun was now on the horizon, despite it being not far from midday when they'd ran.

There was something about this place, she could sense. The air was crisp and cool, blowing lightly like a draft, yet strangely pleasant. The dull grey, jagged rocks that lined the walls seemed to shimmer in the redding light of the sky, almost as if made of silvery metal. It was odd, yet oddly calming, as if…

"What is this place?" She asked Gandalf.

The wizard smiled as he answered.

"Why do you ask?"

"It's just that…" she trailed off, then turned to the wizard to finish. "It feels like magic." **[1]**

Gandalf nodded.

"Indeed." Was his only reply.

Every one of the dwarves could see and feel the strangeness of this place, just as Snow could, but only Balin was looking around in wonder about it. All the others seemed to be made slightly more irritable in its presence, as if they'd encountered it before and did not like its maker.

Finally, Dwalin and the rest of the company rounded a corner to where the path widened out, and a set of natural steps in the rock sloped down alongside a small flowing stream of glistening blue water. This water flowed down the steps and off the edge of the path down a slope to a river, and on the other side was…

Snow gazed in wonder as she saw the most beautiful place she had ever seen.

A mountain of white chalk rose up in front of them, covered in green trees and bushes that glowed in the early-evening light, and sitting on its edge near the river was a village of golden houses. They were not actually made of gold, but the magically-made roofs glowed like the leaves, as much a part of nature as the trees round it. The village curved, bended and sloped with the mountain, and numerous bridges and valleys carved their way down to let water from the many glittering waterfalls flow their ways down to the river to flow out into the beyond.

The air was full of magic, and even more, singing. A beautiful choir of an entire village crying out in harmony in the tranquil world in which they lived.

"The Valley of Imladris." Gandalf told the company with pride. "In the common tongue it is known by another name."

Snow answered before the wizard could say more.

"Rivendell." She said in wonder, smiling in the awe that she now stood on the edge of one of the elven havens she'd read about.

Gandalf nodded and turned to gaze back out across the valley.

"Here lies the last homely house east of the sea." He told them.

Snow finally turned her gaze down to the dwarves, only to find that they didn't seem to find the place as tranquil as she did. Instead they seemed to be rather bothered to be in this place, possibly because of the magic air.

Though then again, it could just be because this was an elf village.

Thorin stepped up towards the wizard, glaring at him with a hand on his sword's hilt.

"This was your plan all along," he accused. ", to seek refuge with our enemy!"

Gandalf frowned down at him.

"You have no enemies here, Thorin Oakenshield." Gandalf corrected him sternly. "The only ill will to be found in this valley is that which you bring yourself!"

"You think the elves will give our quest their blessing?" Thorin questioned incredulously. "They will try to stop us."

Snow frowned, slightly confused as to why the elves would do so, but Gandalf continued before she could ask anything.

"Of course they will," Gandalf agreed, ", but we have questions that need to be answered."

Thorin sighed and lowered his head, finally backing down from the argument in reluctant agreement.

"Now," Gandalf said to the whole company. ", if we are to be successful this needs to be handled with tact, and respect, and no small degree of charm, which is why you will all leave the talking to me."

* * *

Gandalf lead the company of thirteen dwarves and the maid down a long, naturally formed, sloping path that was set on a ridged hill, one that led down the mountain on their side toward a bridge that stretched over the river to the entrance to Rivendell. Snow gazed around at everything, even forgetting about her question as she was lulled into the calm atmosphere of the valley.

The bride was made of bricks, but with a design built into its surface that curves and crossed across itself as it snaked its way from one side to the other. The bridge bowed in at the middle, coming out at the side of the village decorated with two elven statues, stone guards who ever watched over the entrance, welcoming travellers into a brick-built plaza. Off of this clear area led two paths at the side to the right of the bridge side, and a staircase leading into the upper village directly ahead, but on the left was just a drop down the rugged slope to the river below.

As the wizard and the dwarves grouped together in the centre of the plaza, Snow took a moment to stop and look around, taking in the beautiful world around her. The golden falling sunlight lit up the beautiful designs of the buildings, making them glow a silvery-yellow, just like the stone cliff itself, shining brightly in the failing light. The elves still sung, now a different tune, but still one that sent a calm feeling through the young maid.

The dwarves stood around grumpily, deterred by the music as they waited for something to happen.

Finally, two elven guards in blue cloaks and silvery armour made their approach and stepping into position at the top of the staircase, and between them came another elf, dressed in a long blue tunic and leggings under a red cloak, and with long brown hair held by an ornate silver clasp on his head.

"Mithrandir!" he called.

Gandalf turned at the call, and smiled at the approach of a friend.

"Ah! Lindir!" he greeted.

Lindir nodded with a smile, and continued to the bottom of the stairs as the wizard stepped forward to meet him.

"Lastannem I athrannedh I Vruinen." Lindir said in the Rivendell-elvish his race was known so well for.

Snow hadn't learnt to understand, much less speak any form of elvish, but now that she found herself unsure of what they were discussing, and with the beautiful fluidity of the language that she was hearing for the first time, she was sure to find some way to learn someday.

Gandalf's smile faded as he moved onto more serious business.

"I must speak with Lord Elrond." He announced to the elf in front of him.

"My Lord Elrond is not here." Lindir informed him in the common tongue.

"Not here?" Gandalf asked, looking above the elf to the village and back again. "Where is he?"

Lindir barely had a chance to answer, for as he began to speak a familiar horn sounded beyond the bridge. Gandalf smiled and they all turned to spot eleven horses, ridden by an elven guard, rode down the path and onto the bridge into the valley.

Then Gandalf's smile vanished as he realised that to the dwarves it must look like a charge.

"Du bekâr!" Thorin yelled, skirting around the others "Close ranks!"

On call, the thirteen dwarves pulled in and made a circle around Snow, the younger dwarves in the centre with the elders surrounding, a protective shield for them as the elves' horses charged into the plaza and encircled them on either side. Two circles of elves on horseback rotated around the company, as the last members of the guard arrived in the village. The dwarves growled at them, trying to keep them from attacking, though it appeared that the elves wouldn't do such a thing unless physically provoked anyway.

Finally the circles of the guard stoped rotating around the company, and one elf in particular turned toward the wizard and spoke.

"Gandalf!" he greeted.

The wizard smiled up at him and greeted him in return.

"Lord Elrond."

So this was the lord of the elves of Rivendell, Snow realised.

With long, flowing, dark-brown hair, an ornate clasp not quite dissimilar to Lindir's, the elf lord held himself high, much as Snow expected, but with an air of humility about him in a way that Thorin lacked. Dressed in fine, rust-red armour made up of curved stripes of metal woven into a tunic, each one decorated with elven designs, he was truly an elf unlike any other.

"Mellonnen!" Gandalf said, bowing to his friend. "Mo evínedh?"

"Farannem 'lamhoth I udul o charad." Elrond replied.

Elrond finally dismounted his horse and stepped toward Gandalf, though none of the other elves did so, remaining on their horses to keep at the ready in case the dwarves tried anything.

"Daganem rim na Iant Vedui." He continued.

Smiling brightly, Elrond gave the wizard a brief hug, as well as he could with what he held in his hand, which, Snow realised, was one of the orcs' swords.

Orc swords were crudely crafted, jagged at the blade and uncleaned, designed for causing immense pain in their victims, and if they escaped, make sure more pain came in the form of infection. Every orc sward was shaped different, enough for Snow to tell that this was the very excuse-for-a-blade that cut the brush from her broom-pole.

Lord Elrond broke the hug quickly and gazed down at the crude weapon curiously, joined by Gandalf.

"Strange for orcs to come so close to our borders." He remarked to the wizard, before stepping around him and handing the sword to Lindir. "Something, or some_one_, has drawn them near."

"Ah." Gandalf spoke, slightly sheepish. "That may have been us."

He gestured his staff to the company of dwarves in front of them, and Elrond immediately turned his attention to Thorin as he stepped to the front of the group. The elf lord seemed ambivalent toward the dwarf prince, and though his face barely showed it, not that she could see it from where she stood, Snow could tell that Thorin still had an air of contempt about him.

"Welcome Thorin, son of Thrain." Elrond hailed as he stepped forward, looking the dwarf prince over.

"I do not believe we have met." Thorin responded.

"You have your grandfather's bearing." Elrond noted. "I knew Thror when he ruled under the mountain."

"Indeed? He made no mention of _you_." Thorin's voice was laced with scorn and irate disbelief.

Elrond breathed in slowly, his expression betraying either deep thought or annoyance, Snow could not tell. Finally the elf lord spoke again.

"Nartho I noer, toltho I viruvor. Boe I annam vann a nethhail vin."

Why he said this directly to Thorin, Snow had no clue. It was unlikely the dwarf prince knew his language, and less so that any of her or the others knew either. Gloin was quick to display this fact to them all.

"What is he saying? Does he offer us insult!?" He yelled with rage.

The others rallied behind him, all but Snow, Balin, Dwalin and Thorin yelling out and baring their weapons at the elf lord. Thankfully Gandalf corrected him before things got out of hand.

"No, Master Gloin, he's offering you FOOD."

The dwarves' attitude almost completely changed. They all huddled back into a group, Snow dragged into it, discussing for a moment before they turned back to Elrond.

"Err, well… in that case, lead on." The accountant complied with Elrond's request, the dislike for the elves overridden by the prospect of free food.

* * *

A number of minutes later, the thirteen dwarves and the adventuress-maid were seated around a large, low-standing table in one of the outdoors dining areas of the village, gathered with Thorin sitting on one side of a seat that had been left empty for Elrond, a seat for Gandalf on the other and Snow and Balin next to this. The table was covered in glasses of red wine, brass candelabras and plates of food.

The dwarves were less than impressed by the fact that this 'food' was nothing more than a lot of boiled vegetables.

"Try it." Dori urged Ori motheringly as the younger dwarf stared discouraged at piece of celery in his hand. "Just a mouthful." **[2]**

But Ori just shook his head and dropped it back on his plate.

"I don't like green food."

Dwalin seemed just as upset as he looked under the plants in his bowl to find nothing he could find worthwhile.

"Where's the meat?" he asked, dismayed.

"Have they got any chips?" Ori asked, looking around, though Snow figured that elves would be appalled by the idea of deep-frying potato slices.

On top of that, the dwarves were also quite intolerant of the calm music the elves around them were playing. The overarching sound of a she-elf's harp resonated throughout the area for all to hear, lulling Snow into a peaceful state in the harmony. By contrast she spotted Oin filling his hearing aid with a facecloth when a flute started playing.

A few minutes into the meal that Snow happened to be content with, Gandalf and Lord Elrond came to the table at last, the wizard missing his hat and the elf lord having changed into more casual clothing, an autumn-green silk gown of a similar design to Lindir's.

"Kind of you to invite us." Gandalf was saying to Elrond as they approached. "I'm not really dressed for dinner."

"You never are." Lord Elrond smiled at him.

Gandalf breathed a couple of friendly laughs at this as they stepped up into the dining area and moved to take their seats at the table.

As the elf lord began to dine, he looked around at the various members of the company curiously. Snow could already tell he was wondering why thirteen dwarves, led by a prince and a wizard, had turned up on his doorstep with the appearance of having come from either a war or a pigsty. Snow looked away as his gaze fell on her, and unbeknownst to the maid, his face furrowed in confusion.

When he next spoke, at first Snow thought he was talking to Gandalf again.

"Tell me," he said, ", what is a young Dúnedain such as yourself doing out on the road in the company of a wizard and thirteen dwarves?"

He didn't mean any disrespect, though a number of dwarves took slight offence to that.

Snow froze as she realised he was talking to HER. Slowly she drew her eyes back to the elf lord's.

His eyes were silver, and shined like starlight on a clear night. Snow gulped as she answered. **[3]**

"Just needed to get out of the house." she said quietly.

He nodded, but gazed suspiciously at her for a moment longer before turning back to the wizard to her left.

She turned back to looking at her dinner. Technically it wasn't a lie; if she hadn't got out the orcs would've killed her, and probably a number of others until they'd found her.

The minutes drew on, the dwarves still complaining about their apparent lack of a meal, and Gandalf told Elrond of the elven swords he and Thorin had acquired, and Elrond was quick to ask to see them. Thorin begrudgingly handed him his blade, and Elrond gazed at in wonder as he identified it as one of the great swords of old.

"This is Orcrist, the Goblin-cleaver." Elrond revealed. "A famous blade forged by the high elves of the west. My kin."

He handed it back to the dwarf prince, who, while still bothered with the nature of the elven weapon, was still attentive of his teachings.

"May it serve you well." Elrond said to him, and he nodded in begrudging gratitude.

Elrond turned and picked up Gandalf's weapon, holding it up to the light and drawing it slightly. He recognised it immediately.

"And this is Glamdring." He announced. "The Foe-hammer. Sword of the king of Gondolin."

Elrond's revelation of the fame of these swords made Snow, sat on Gandalf's right, curious. The sword Gandalf gave her was an elven blade, was it not? A dagger, mind you, but an elf's weapon none the less.

Curious, she began to unclasp it from her belt to show Elrond, only for Balin to shake his head no.

"I wouldn't bother, lassie." He told her. "Swords are named for the great deeds they do in war."

Snow looked up to him and nodded, moving to put it back.

"You're probably right." She conceded. "This is really only a dagger, that's not a weapon one's likely to name."

"I'm not actually sure it's even a dagger." The old dwarf said solemnly. "More of a letter-opener, really."

Meanwhile, Elrond had told the wizard and the prince about the great goblin wars in which their blades had been used. Then the elf lord returned Glamdring to Gandalf and asked in wonder:

"How did you come by these?"

The wizard was more than happy to reply.

"We found them in a troll hoard on the Great East Road," He told him, then added, ", shortly before we were ambushed by orcs."

The elf lord made no attempt to question this statement, and Snow understood. Perhaps what Fili had told her several nights before, that there were dozens of orc packs in the wild, was true. Even if it wasn't true, it was at least known enough for Elrond not to question the ambush.

He DID, however, question something Snow wasn't expecting.

"And what were you doing on the Great East Road?" he asked, with a hint of amused intrigue.

All of Gandalf, Thorin, Snow and Balin looked up at this. Snow in confusion as to why that should be important. But the wizard and the dwarves were hesitant to answer, and Snow knew they were under the impression that Elrond would disapprove of their quest.

Thorin stood up and moved away, mumbling a brief "Excuse me" to their host as he did, and the wizard sighed and looked away, avoiding his elf friend's eyes.

Snow decided she needed to move away too when Bofur stood up on the table and began to lead the dwarves in song, or rather a racket so loud it drowned out the music of the surrounding, disapproving, Elves. **[4]**

* * *

**[1] Just a brief foray into the world of the extended edition to fill out the scene.**

**[2] I replaced whatever Ori was holding in the film with celery because I don't know what the actual vegetable was called.**

**[3] A lot of elves have eyes like this apparently.**

**[4] Another brief foray into the extended edition to end off the chapter.**

**Credit for the elvish goes to moviedragon009's ****Frozen**** crossover with ****The Hobbit****, ****The Hobbit and the Snow Queen****.**

**Not entirely impressed with this chapter myself. I feel as if there's some stuff from the extended edition that I could've added in, though I haven't properly seen the extended edition yet, so maybe once I have I'll edit some stuff in.**

**Yes, again the chapter is short. A lot of my chapters are doing that lately. I would combine this with the next one, expect that more happens in it than just the talk about the map. You'll see!**

**Next Time: Chapter 11: Of Maps and Moon Runes**


	12. Chapter 11: Of Maps and Moon Runes

**REVIEW REPLIES: **

**Toby7400:  
Thanks!  
I suppose you're right, though I'm not entirely removing it. More… moving and modifying it to fit into the story I've planned for this. The Battle of the Five Armies has to happen for a reason.**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**I'm sorry I've been so long guys. Chapter 7 of ****Big Hero Glitch**** was delayed, and with it chapter 11 of this one. But I'm back now, and with luck I can get back to a usual schedule for writing and uploading!**

**Enjoy!**

**Chapter 11: Of Maps and Moon Runes**

The evening passed swiftly, the golden light of the waning sun fading into silver starlight and moonlight. Under the darkened sky, Rivendell's tree-like buildings faded grey, appearing like a forest in winter, the leafless branches seeming lifeless yet alive in the cool, crisp air.

But not all was calm in Rivendell. Contemptuous voices could be heard in the village this night, emanating from the house of Elrond, where an elf lord, a wizard, two dwarves and a maid talked.

After the dwarves had finished singing their racket and not-eating their meal from earlier in the evening, Elrond had gathered Thorin and Gandalf, who were then joined by Balin and Snow, and lead them into his halls to discuss the nature of journey the company had been traveling on.

"Our business is no concern of elves." Thorin answered the elf lord scornfully, glaring up at him as Balin paced beside him.

"Oh for goodness' sake, Thorin, show him the map!" Gandalf chided.

"It is the legacy of my people." Thorin insisted, never looking away from Elrond. "It is mine to protect, as are its secrets."

The wizard glared down at the dwarf prince from his position beside Elrond.

"Save me from the stubbornness of dwarves!" he said, exasperated. "Your pride will be your downfall."

Thorin squared his jaw in defiance and Balin stopped pacing and looked around, hands on hips, at the group. Snow, strategically, said nothing.

"You stand here in the presence of one of the few in Middle Earth who can read that map!" Gandalf continued. "Show it to Lord Elrond!"

All eyes turned to Thorin, awaiting his next move. He merely stood for a few moments, clearly in contemplation of what to do. His pride in his people and his hate for elves, against the possibility of never finding the secret passage into the mountain. But, eventually, he reached into his vest and pulled out the very offending parchment.

Balin reached forward to stop him, saying "Thorin, no!", only for Thorin to block the older dwarf with his other arm and step forward, holding the folded map up to the elf lord.

Elrond took it curiously, and unfolded it to reveal the slopes that it represented. Appearing slightly concerned, he looked back up from the map to the prince and furrowed his eyebrows at him.

"Erebor?" he perceived, before asking slowly, "What is your interest in this map?"

Snow made sure to look anywhere but up at Elrond, remembering what Gandalf and Thorin had discussed earlier, that the elves would not take the idea of this quest well. Now that Elrond was asking over that very topic, she knew the situation was now delicate.

Thorin opened his mouth to speak, presumably something to do with legacy and pride in his race that was likely rude to the elves, but Gandalf answered Lord Elrond before the dwarf prince could do so.

"It's mainly academic." The wizard lied, turning back to Elrond.

Both the dwarf and the maid snapped their attentions to Gandalf in surprise as he continued.

"As you know, this sort of artefact sometimes contains hidden text?"

Elrond glanced at both Gandalf and Thorin briefly before returning his gaze to the map, and Snow could tell that he wasn't entirely convinced by this story. Even so, the elf lord turned, stepping into the light of the moon shining through the windows to see the map more clearly.

Lord Elrond didn't notice as Gandalf turned to Thorin and shared a grateful nod before quickly returning his attention to the elf lord.

"You still read ancient dwarvish, do you not?" Gandalf asked him.

Elrond held the map up to the moonlight, turning it at an angle and examining it, searching for the hidden dwarvish writing Gandalf had told him of. After a moment he announced his findings to the assembled company.

"Ah!" he exhaled in interest. "Cirith ithil."

"Moon runes!" Gandalf translated, and smiled. "Oh, of course!" **[1]**

Snow looked up to the wizard, confused, even as he turned to her and clarified:

"An easy thing to miss."

"Well, in this case that is true." Elrond agreed, turning the map over to examine one last time before turning to the odd group before him. "Moon runes can only be read by the light of a moon of the same shape and season as the day in which they were written."

He gazed, as a teacher would to his scholars, at the dwarf prince at the bottom of the stairs beneath him. The dwarf prince looked up to him, for once not condescending as he asked his question.

"Can you read them?"

* * *

Elrond led the four out of the village, to a set of stairs that spiralled up though the mountain on which it sat. Stepping out of the hallway let them onto an outcropping of rock not far above the village, sheltered under a cavernous cliff from which a waterfall flowed. The ledges edge wad decorated with an elven design, shaped in a half-ring opposite the curved brink, and at the ledge's end was a silver crystal, clear and pure, perfectly smooth at its top, sitting right in the path of moonlight. This is where Elrond, still holding the map, led them.

"These runes were written in the last days of autumn," Lord Elrond told them as he placed the map on the crystal, ", by the light of a crescent moon nearly two hundred years ago." **[2]**

He turned to the dwarves.

"It would seem you were meant to come to Rivendell." He informed them. "Fate is with you, Thorin Oakenshield, for the same moon shines upon us tonight."

To affirm the elf lord's prediction, the dwarves, wizard and maid looked up to the moon, shining down into the cavern, as a cloud shifted away to reveal the dark night sky, and the stars that were by far outshined by the crescent moon that hung up there. Indeed the moon was as he said, and its rays shined down upon them.

When the moon's rays struck the crystal though, the white stone lit up, glowing with diamond light. It cast rays of its own, producing a beam that lit up, shining a white light onto the ceiling, beaming bright through the yellow parchment and highlighting all writing.

And there on the map, as the group watched, below the drawing of the mountain appeared text of a glowing silver, ancient dwarvish writing in a rectangular form, which Elrond could understand immediately. And so he read:

"'Stand by the grey stone when the thrush knocks, and with the setting sun, the last light of Durin's Day will shine upon the keyhole.'"

And with that he removed the map from the crystal table and looked over it once more, leaving Thorin and the others to contemplate this new knowledge.

Snow, on the other hand, had some confusion. In the old tales she used to read, much had been told of Middle Earth, of dwarves and elves, of Thorin and Erebor, and the great dragon that smout it.

One thing she hadn't learnt about was calendar systems. She knew that every race in Middle Earth had its different days which they celebrated, different times which they found sacred, different holidays they took. What she was unaware of was what those days were.

Which is why she turned to Balin and asked:

"What is Durin's Day?"

"It is the start of the dwarves' new year," Gandalf replied before the old dwarf could answer. ", when the last moon of autumn and the first sun of winter appear in the sky together."

"This is ill news." Thorin stated, forgetting that Elrond was there.

The dwarf prince looked up from his contemplation with that decision, and turned to Balin in urgency.

"Autumn is passing," he told him, "Durin's day will soon be upon us."**[2]**

Balin took a step toward him, removing a hand from his side to reassure him.

"We still have time." He said.

"To find the entrance?" Snow asked. "The end of autumn is eight days away, we'll never make it in time!" **[2]**

"Not if we make haste." Balin theorised. "We'll take the direct route, through the pass of Caradhras. If we can find quick passage across the plains and through the Greenwood, and find the entrance quickly, we can still get there for the last light of Durin's Day. We have to be standing at exactly the right spot at exactly the right time, then, and only then, can the door be opened." **[3]**

Thorin and Snow nodded. They'd have to find steeds to carry them across the plains, but if they could, the passage to the mountain could be covered within a few days, leaving their time a plenty to find the hidden door before the time came to open it. Finally, it seemed, they had a plan.

Unfortunately, the elf lord heard and understood every word the old dwarf had said, and was none too pleased by the true nature of their quest.

"So this is your purpose." he stated with disgruntled realisation to Thorin, "To enter the mountain."

Thorin turned and glanced briefly at Balin, as they both became unhappy that he'd said all that out loud, before turning to glare up at the elf lord in annoyance.

"What of it?" he shot up at him.

Elrond frowned down at him with concern.

"There are some who would not deem it wise." He told him.

Lord Elrond handed the map back to Thorin, who took it quickly and returned it to his vest in an annoyed manner.

Gandalf, meanwhile, looked back at his friend and defended the quest. **[4]**

"It would be wise to recover the old strongholds." He argued to Lord Elrond.

Elrond turned his gaze to the wizard, a solemn questioning look on his face.

"It would be _un_wise to enter a mountain guarded by a fire-breathing dragon." He maintained.

Thorin maintained his glare up at the elf lord, the old loathing resurfacing.

"Is this the cowardice that the Elven King used to excuse himself from helping my people!?" he dared to growl out, drawing Elrond's stern glare instantly.

Snow found this unfair of Thorin to say.

"To be fair," she reasoned to him, ", who in their right mind would walk into a Dragon's hoard of their own free will?"

Thorin glowered back and forth between Elrond and Snow, angry at both for their defiance. At last he let out a growl and stormed off, returning to the hall that led back to the village. The others watched him go, Gandalf sighing in irritation before turning back to Lord Elrond.

"Taking back that mountain could be very good thing for the dwarves." He reasoned.

Elrond returned his attention to the wizard, who squared his jaw as best he could, before the elf lord took slow steps to stand in front of the wizard.

"You took it upon yourself to help them." he said, "Yet you forget you are not the ONLY guardian to stand watch over Middle Earth."

"What do you mean?" Gandalf asked.

"I have summoned the White Council," He said, ", I called for the others the moment I found thirteen dwarves, one a prince, with a Dúnedain and a wizard in their company on my doorstep in traveller's clothing."

Gandalf appeared unhappy over this news, and fidgeted with his staff as he looked into Elrond's eyes.

"This does not have to concern them." Gandalf reasoned.

But Elrond didn't seem so sure.

"Yes it does, Gandalf. A quest such as this causes great concern. We must all discuss this, Gandalf."

And with that, Elrond turned away, following the aggravated dwarf prince back to his village. Gandalf, Snow and Balin watched him for a moment before following.

As they walked down the steps back to Rivendell, Snow moved closer to Gandalf in curiosity.

"What's the White Council, Gandalf?" she asked in interest.

The wizard turned to look at her, and a sad look crossed his face for a moment. After a few moments, he opened his mouth to speak, but faltered. Then he smiled sadly.

"A secret." He told her finally.

Gandalf turned to face the way he was going, and Snow, dissatisfied by his answer, slowed in her stride, allowing him to get away. Whatever the White Council was, judging by his sombre expression, it must have been the cause of pain in Gandalf's life at one point, so much that he couldn't say it.

It was only when Balin caught up to her that she sped up again, returning to the elven village with the others. **[4]**

* * *

Far away to the west, a steep rocky hill stood alone in the plains between Bree and the mountain. The sides were steep and treacherous, but there was a path that spiralled around it, leading up to the top, where stood a set of old ruins, the last remnants of an old and weathered watchtower of men. Now trees sprung up amongst it, lichens and mosses springing up through the cracks and crevices, hasting its decay.

Now it was a watchtower for a different race. One far more malicious.

A warg's howl echoed across the grassland and away from the watchtower, the beast's sound signalling the arrival of a pack of orcs returned from the hunt.

Only this hunt had not been successful. A single scared orc, leading only a few injured wargs, stepped into the ruins of Weathertop, looked down upon by the numbers of fellow orcs and wargs that glared and growled down at him for returning alone and with no proof of any accomplishment. Turning to face the rest of the crumbling clearing, the former leader of an orc pack found himself staring into the roaring snout of a pale white warg, sitting upon a slab of fallen stone.

And at the other side of the decayed tower, looking out over the lands beyond, was an orc like no other. By far taller, standing straight, his lack of shirt revealing pale skin covered by tattoos of scars attained far before the wars of old, wearing ragged old leggings and leather boots. On one hand was a gauntlet. The other replaced with a metal claw on the stump of his arm.

The former orc pack-leader swallowed nervously before he addressed his master in his vile tongue.

"_The dwarves… and the girl, master…_" He faltered, but kept speaking. "_We lost them._"

He flinched as a warg behind him growled. When the one he was addressing didn't react, he continued.

"_Ambushed by Elvish filth, we were-_"

But only then did the pale orc turn and growl in the deepest voice of any orc anyone had ever seen. He was not pleased.

"_I don't want excuses!_"

Turning to face the former orc leader was none other than Azog the Defiler. He had survived his encounter with the dwarf prince, and lived for sixty years awaiting the chance to enact his revenge.

With the stride of a man, more than most orcs could ever accomplish, the pale orc glared as he stepped down into the clearing, focusing his attention at his failed servant even as he stroked the head of his white warg.

"_I want our mission accomplished,_" He said. "_, and with it the head of the dwarf king!_"

Without a break in his stride, he left his warg and stalked slowly towards the rapidly backpedalling orc in front of him, as the former orc leader shrunk in terror.

"_We were outnumbered!_" the orc insisted. "_There was nothing we could do!_"

The orc backed up into the fallen walls of the tower, allowing Azog to move in.

"_I barely escaped with my life!_" the orc added.

But Azog was unfazed by this, even as he stopped right in front of the former orc leader and stroked his head. Though it inflicted no pain, the simple stroking felt by far a worse punishment than a slap or a punch.

Even worse considering what the pale orc said next.

"_It would be far better had you paid with it._"

Then he stuck the orc in the throat with his claw and lifted him into the air, barely affected by the smaller orc's struggles. With a roar of a yell, he threw his former servant out of the clearing, smashing his head on a column, beyond which when he hit the ground he was swarmed by wargs and torn apart, now nothing more than food for the beasts.

Other orcs around the clearing flinched at the casual display of gruesome violence. It wasn't that violence wasn't engrained as a part of them. But seeing their master, as ruthless and cruel as he was, wantonly murder one of their own over a failed mission was something that, while not unexpected, still scared them to their core.

They should be used to it by now. Azog was a malevolent leader at the least, as all orc commanders were. This didn't stop them from being afraid of them turning their malice and anger on _them_.

Azog, completely unfazed, turned away, slowly stepping past his warg to return to his vantage point.

"_The dwarf-scum will show themselves soon enough._" he told his remaining servants as he stopped on the edge of the old watchtower. "_And when they do, we'll have our prize for my master:_"

He smirked as he recalled what they'd been summoned to retrieve.

"_The maid girl's heart._"

As he finished his proclamation, the orc hunters behind him cackled in humour at what they were to do. Violence and the blood of all things that were not themselves was a deep instinctual thing, one they cherished and enjoyed more than any other race would deem healthy.

The pale orc turned to face his servants, one look ordering them to saddle up and prepare to ride out on their mission to slay the company of dwarves.

"_Send out word!_" he ordered. "_There is a price on the head of Thorin Oakenshield!_"

And as the riders of Gundabad charged down the steep slopes of Weathertop on their dark beasts, Azog yelled into the night with orders and a roar, yearning for the night in which he'd kill his nemesis, and end his lifelong ambition once and for all.

* * *

**[1] That isn't actually the translation of cirith ithil, but for the purpose of the story in both the film and this story this is what Gandalf gathered.**

**[2] I changed these from what it was in the film because in my mind when I watched the films before I always thought that Middle Earth was much smaller, and that all the adventures only took a few days. This means that the company will actually reach the mountain in a few days' time, so the map must have been made in the same season, instead of four-and-a-half months ago. Sorry for not sticking to canon in that respect.**

**[3] I assume Caradhras was the path they found the stone giants on in the film, just less snowy then it was when the Fellowship climbed it.**

**[4] So I changed the scene a bit, mainly because it didn't make sense that before they were so determined to keep the secret from Elrond because the elves would try to stop them, then Gandalf got confused when they did.  
Also, my version of the White Council is different because of the changes I'm making to story.**

**A bit shorter than I'd hoped, just over 3K words, but it's more than 2K, and that's all I need really.**

**Really, 3K seems to be becoming my standard again. I went up to 5K for a while, but lots of my recent chapters are shorter again. Oh well.**

**So, you've noticed I've modified stuff from the film. That's good! It means things are finally starting to diverge into my own storyline, with the ties to Snow's story setting in.**

**I say 'finally', but in reality we're really early; While I AM splitting it into three parts, the overall story is looking to be 70 chapters long with a potential total word count of 280K.**

**Anyway, next time I'll be modifying more things, as much of the dialogue in the White Council will be changed to suit the story. You'll see it when you read it.**

**Next Time: Chapter 12: The White Council**


	13. Chapter 12: The White Council

**REVIEW REPLIES:**

**Whiteling:  
Well no, they were given orders by the Evil Queen to KILL Snow White. =P  
In fact it's actually more complicated than that, but more on this in ****The Desolation of Smaug****.**

**Dinosaur Imperial Soldier:  
What are you talking about? Of course I'm including ****The Desolation of Smaug****. Where'd you get the impression I was cutting it out?**

**Toby7400:  
If she keeps hanging around the orcs she'll be more than convinced she's the fairest of them all! =P  
Well technically the reveal of Azog is identical to the movie, just I've modified some of the lines from it. Still, thanks for the compliment.**

**AUTHOR'S INTRO:**

**Hello, guys! Here I am with a new chapter, later than I expected, but then, I AM trying to sort out a new system, mainly based around new arrangements for writing my superhero line of stories, including my current fanfic ****Big Hero Glitch****, which is well worth the read if you like Disney's ****Wreck-It Ralph**** and ****Big Hero 6****.**

**Anyway, enough of my shameless self-advertisement.**

**I'm gonna warn you, this chapter is a bit mythology-breaking, as it deals with a different version of the White Council from the books and delves into the version of the mythology I have built for my version of this.**

**Just so we're clear, I don't know whether I've mentioned this before, but I don't know much about the history of Middle Earth. I have never read ****The Silmarillion****. What I do know is from watching ****The Hobbit**** and ****The Lord of the Rings**** trilogies, and even of that I'm changing some things to suit my version. As result of this, the White Council and its origins are different, plus I completely invented that idea of the orc wars as part of the mythology behind this version, which will hopefully come clear at some point early on in ****The Battle of the Five Armies****. You'll see.  
Gollum: Oh yesss… you will see…**

***ahem***

**Anyway, enough of me, you want to read the chapter!**

**So, without further ado, read on, and I hope you enjoy!**

**Chapter 12: The White Council**

Thorin stomped off to re-join the remaining dwarves where they had camped within one of the guesthouses of Rivendell, swiftly followed by Snow and Balin. Gandalf, on the other hand, caught up with Lord Elrond, and together they walked to another set of stairs that led up into the highest part of the village, a meeting circle made of stone, centred by an elven table, and surrounded by tree-like columns and a balcony that looked out over the river and the lands to the south.

This was where the White Council met in Rivendell. Each of the council-members homes had a place like this. There was a room much like this in the obsidian tower of Orthanc in Isengard. Another gathering place stood in the highest tree in the forest of Lothlórien. There have been, over the ages, many places like this all over Middle Earth, but the White Council only had three.

Gandalf kept arguing with Elrond as they climbed the stairs, despite the fact that the remaining members of the Council were not yet present. He wasn't entirely happy with the Council gathering for this matter, and insisted that the dwarves would have embarked on this quest eventually even if he hadn't intervened.

"With or without our help, these dwarves WILL march on the mountain!" he argued, "They're determined to reclaim their homeland. I do not believe Thorin Oakenshield believes himself answerable to anyone."

The wizard and the elf lord reached the top the stairs, where Gandalf stopped and turned to Elrond rather disgruntledly.

"Nor, for that matter, do I." he added.

"It is not me you must answer to." Was Elrond's reply.

He gestured into the circle, and Gandalf turned to follow his direction, only to stop when he saw who the elf lord was referring to.

A figure, tall and beautiful in an elven gown, with long, waist-length, curly, golden hair stood on the balcony under the silver moonlight, her emerald-laden silver dress shimmering in its rays. Her ears were pointed, much like Elrond's, and her head bore a woven headdress not much different to his. And in her hand was a staff, brown and wooden, yet still blossoming with leaves and flowers, signifying her colour.

And as she turned on the spot to meet the gaze of the wizard she revealed her soft features, her face curved with beauty and blue eyes whose highlights shone with the light of the stars. **[1]**

She was an elf-witch. THE green elf-witch of the south. **[2]**

"Flendar!" Gandalf greeted his kin-in-spirit almost breathlessly. "Lady Galadriel!"

"Mithrandir." She said in her deep, airy elvish. "_It has been a long time._"

Gandalf bowed his head to her. As both were wizards of the world they were equals in power, but whereas Gandalf was a wonderer, a traveller of the lands, Galadriel was also an elf royal of Lothlórien.

"_Time may have changed me,_" he said in elvish before gazing back at her. "_, but not so the Lady of Lórien!_"

Galadriel smiled fondly at him for his charm. Gandalf and Galadriel were always close, and the bond between them remained for as long as they'd known.

But while the moment could last as long as they wanted, there were more pressing matters to attend to.

"Lord Elrond told me he sent for you." Gandalf told her as he turned to look back at the elf lord.

"Did he?"

The grey wizard's face fell almost instantly at the deep voice coming from the right of the circle. He closed his eyes and sighed internally as he turned, forcing a smile at the leader of the Council, his friend who most certainly would not approve of the dwarves' quest.

The White Wizard stood, hand on his black staff of Orthanc, smiling through his white beard and long, straight, white hair, his kind blue eyes gazing at Gandalf in greeting. His cloak was pure white, of a similar form to Gandalf's though the sleeves were far less clumsy, in that they did not droop as much as the grey wizard's.

"Saruman." Gandalf greeted respectfully.

"You have been busy of late, my friend." Saruman noted.

* * *

"Tell me, Gandalf."

The sun was coming close to rising when Gandalf started from his position, sitting slumped in a chair at one end of the table, Saruman at the other, Elrond pacing by their side near the stairs and Galadriel slowly circling them all, her wizard's staff making barly a sound on the stone floor. The remaining three of the Council had been discussing the matter of the quest, Elrond telling them what he knew, prior to Saruman rousing Gandalf with his address.

The Grey Wizard looked up and across the table to the leader of the Council as he spoke.

"Did you think these plans and schemes of yours would go unnoticed?"

"Unnoticed?"

Gandalf looked back up to the two elves before answering.

"N-no!" he appealed, "I'm simply doing what I feel to be right."

"The dragon…" Galadriel said, pausing, "…has long been on your mind."

Galadriel had mastered an ability few wizards could even dream of attempting. The ability to read someone, completely, to see into their mind and their intents. The power to see truth and reason in anyone. But with Gandalf she held something more, a bond that connected them across the world, so closely that they could even converse within the realm of their minds. It was a bond they treasured, though it was not one necessary for Galadriel to realise this truth.

Gandalf looked up to the green witch as he replied.

"That is true, my Lady." He turned back to Saruman. "That dragon has terrorised the lands in the north-east long enough. Ridding him from that land would free Esgaroth, and allow the dwarves of the Iron Hills to reunite with their kin in the Blue Mountains, and rebuild their kingdom. Restore peace and prosperity to those lands, and we can ready them for any enemy that may arise."

Elrond stopped in his pacing at the mention of an enemy, and, confused, looked up at Gandalf from where he stood. Saruman, too, didn't understand what his friend meant.

"What enemy?" he asked. "Gandalf, the enemy is defeated. The last uprising of the orcs was quelled by our sister long ago." **[3]**

But Gandalf was undeterred, and leant forward to reason.

"Does it not bother you that our sister of the north vanished following the last orc war?" the Grey Wizard questioned the White. "Our lifeforce remains, yet she is gone without a trace. I tried searching for her back then, but when she did not show herself I understood she must have felt weary after what happened. But now she has been gone for so long, the orcs of the north may just realise the borders of their land are unprotected. If they were to spread south-" **[4]**

"Yet they have not, or we would know." Saruman interrupted. "If an army had been spreading down from Angmar my ravens would have warned me long before they struck."

"Gandalf, for four hundred years we have lived in peace." Elrond maintained, "A hard-won, watchful peace!"

But Gandalf wasn't so sure, and turned to him to argue.

"Are we? Are we at peace?" he turned look at each of the Council in turn, beseeching them to understand. "Trolls have come down from the mountains! They have been raiding villages, destroying farms! Orcs have attacked us ON the road! I travelled through the Greenwood on my way to Bree, where I hoped to find Thorin Oakenshield, only to find that the woodsmen who live there now call it _Mirk_wood! I consulted with Radagast when I passed by his-"

"Radagast!?" Saruman exclaimed upon the mention of the wizard of the east. "Do not speak to me of Radagast the Brown. He is a foolish fellow."

"Well, he's odd, I grant you, lives a solitary life-" Gandalf started to defend.

"It's not that." He interrupted, "It's his obsessive consumption of mushrooms! They've addled his brain and yellowed his teeth! I warned him when the order fell apart after our sister's disappearance, feasting on funguses is not a healthy existence, and as a result he'd go mad and start frolicking out in the woods with the Ents, but he refused to listen-" **[5]**

Tired of Saruman's rambling, the Grey Wizard interrupted.

"He spoke of rots and creatures dying to unnatural forces throughout the Greenwood." Gandalf told him.

"Hardly a prelude to war." Elrond refuted.

"Always you must MEDDLE," Saruman criticized, "looking for trouble where none exists!"

"Let him speak." Galadriel commanded.

In an instant the White Wizard and the elf lord backed down, Elrond returning to his pacing, giving Gandalf a chance to reason his point.

"There is… something at work… beyond the evil of Smaug." He told the head of the Council. "Something far more powerful. We can remain blind to it, but it will not be ignoring us, that I can promise you. I believe that whatever has our sister could very well be the one who sent orcs after us."

All three Council-members regarded him for a moment, Galadriel in deep, understanding thought, Elrond in puzzlement, but Saruman in belittlement.

"Have you any evidence for this?"

Gandalf stopped, stumped by Saruman's question.

"I have none." He replied.

"Because there IS none!" Saruman insisted. "Let us examine what we know. A single orc pack lies dead across the Bruinen. Three mountain trolls have been vanquished in the woods of Eriador. And our sister is still missing from our council. It is not so very much after all."

Gandalf let out a pained sigh. As he should have expected, Saruman refused to understand his fears, and failed to acknowledge that there was something at work that could spell bad things for them all.

"The question of this dwarvish company, however, troubles me deeply." Saruman continued. "Sending a company of thirteen dwarves across the land could stir up trouble in a way a minor orc skirmish never could. Rumours will spread, Gandalf. Rumours of the dwarves returning to the mountain will draw the attention of many eyes. Some may decide it within their power to use your dwarves for sport. Others may look to the mountain and take such a quest for their own.

"And when they come to culmination, it will lead to a battle of many armies fighting over a hill of gold." He predicted. "THAT might draw the attention of Gundabad."

Elrond turned, stopping his pace and stepping up to the table, frowning down at the elven wood with concern on his features.

"That's… not the only troubling part of this." He announced to the Grey Wizard, turning his head to him. "The girl."

Gandalf turned to the elf lord, well aware of Galadriel's gaze turning to him. Saruman was quick to switch to this other matter of issue.

"Why the Dúnedain princess, Gandalf?"

And at that, Gandalf snapped his attention back to Saruman in surprise. He had been unaware that they knew who Snow really was.

"Why bring the old race of men into this?" The White Wizard asked him.

Gandalf looked back and forth between Elrond, Galadriel and Saruman. Elrond's frown of concern remained, steady on the Grey Wizard. Saruman's own disapproving frown that he'd held since the meeting began was still there, his eyebrows raised slightly in interest of his answer. Of the three, Galadriel was the hardest to read, but to Gandalf she simply appeared to simply be waiting for an answer, and to make her decision depending on it.

Finally, Gandalf brought up the courage to find the words to answer. The answer that seemed the most right.

"You all know as well as I do how far the race of men has fallen." He told the Council. "Even the descendent of Isildur refused to return to the throne of Gondor out of shame. I feel if we can renew their hope-"

"Raising their hopes will not solve anything." Saruman interrupted. "Sending the young, unknown heir of Shireland on a quest that could easily claim the lives of even thirteen fully-grown dwarves will not solve anything."

Elrond shared Saruman's concern, but with a different reasoning.

"Men are weak, Gandalf." He told the Grey Wizard. "The strength of men failed with Isildur, never to return again. It has been three thousand years, Gandalf. It is time to leave them to their own."

"Is that what you told your daughter?" Gandalf almost snapped.

Elrond's following glare bore into the wizard at his daughter, a she-elf who had fallen in love with another Dúnedain, one who had been raised here in Rivendell after being brought here by his dying mother. After the young man had left, the elf lord's daughter had watched for him, only for Elrond to denigrate her for what he determined a lost cause.

"Arwen is no concern of yours, Mithrandir." He said, then stalked back to the edge of the circle, looking out over his valley, where somewhere Arwen attended to her studies.

Unperturbed by the newfound tension between the Grey Wizard and the elf lord, Saruman continued stating his disapproval of the dwarves quest to Gandalf.

"A company of thirteen dwarves, and a young Dúnedain princess, on a quest to slay a dragon." Saruman summarized to the Council. "I am not convinced, Gandalf. I do not feel like I can condone such a quest. If they'd come to me, I might have spared them this disappointment…"

Unbeknownst to the White Wizard, Galadriel suddenly stopped in her tracks, and stared into the distance as if in thought. With barely a movement she entered Gandalf's mind and conveyed a simple message:

'_They are leaving._'

Gandalf turned to the Green Witch, now ignoring Saruman, at the sound of her voice in his head, and the knowledge that 'they', meaning the company, were now on their way off on their journey once more, not even waiting for the White Council's decision. Not that they knew about the Council in the first place.

'_Yes._' Gandalf replied in thought.

But the statement made Galadriel look up at him in question. His reply had been in knowing, not surprise or even simple realisation. He knew they'd be leaving anyway.

'_You knew._' It was not a question.

In response Gandalf's gaze became sheepish, and Galadriel smiled in fond amusement at the Grey Wizard.

"…I feel there's nothing else for it…"

Saruman trailed off as everyone's eyes were drawn to Lindir as he climbed the steps at speed, an urgent matter clearly at hand. Urgent to both the lord of the village, and the White Council as a whole.

"My Lord Elrond." The elf said. "The dwarves. They've gone."

* * *

Indeed, as the sun rose from the east past the Misty Mountains into the valley, the company of thirteen dwarves and a maid disembarked from Rivendell. So to not disturb the elves from their slumbers, who would likely be quick to stop the company, the fourteen had set out early, slipping quietly out of the village, across the bridge and onto the dirt path to the wilderness. From there, their path turned south, and climbed, rising out of the valley and east, in the direction of the Misty Mountains.

Halfway up the ravine, Thorin stopped from his position at the front of the company and turned back to address his comrades.

"Be on your guard." He told them. "We're about to step over the edge of the wild."

He turned to Balin, who stood behind him in the line of dwarves.

"Balin, you know these paths. Lead on." He said.

"Alright." The old dwarf agreed, and stepped forward, leading them all with his older experience and greater wisdom out into the lands to the Misty Mountains.

Unlike Thorin or any of the others, Balin knew the path to the pass of Caradhras, the quickest route past the mountains that avoided going under it. That they had to avoid at all costs.

Thorin however, didn't move to keep going even as Balin and the other dwarves stepped past him to continue. His eyes had settled on the young adventuress-in-training, who he'd caught staring back at the elf village below.

Snow had gotten little sleep the previous night. After returning to the village she'd been led to a bed that lay outside in one of the many courtyards of the village, not far from where the dwarves had camped out. She'd supposed she shouldn't find it so hard to go to sleep in such a peaceful place, and she wouldn't have if the dwarves hadn't kept her up with their relentless chatter and recurrent laughter that broke out every so often.

Such as when Bofur had thrown Bombur a small sausage, which, incidentally, had been enough for the table the fat dwarf had been sitting on to collapse under the combined weight. She wondered if it had been an accident or whether Bofur had noticed this and done it on purpose. She was at least happy to have been awake for that one; it WAS rather funny when Bombur had toppled.

Still, it had been two days since Balin had told her the tale of Thorin, two days since she'd had a decent night's sleep. She was tired, and stepping back out into the wild felt like a chore beyond measure. Even in the Shireland castle she had never had to go for this long without sleep.

_Gondolin_, she missed Shireland. She missed the rolling hills and the little rivers she used to explore, the village and the East Farthing Woods she'd go into on errands for the Queen. She missed Elanor, and the friendly people who lived under her stepmother's rule in the village. And even with the many chores, all the backbreaking hard work, she missed the ability to just fall back onto her wooden bed when it was all over each day.

'_I am not at home._'

Home. Rivendell had been the closest to home they had encountered so far, and probably the closest they would over the course of this journey. She gazed back at the calm, peaceful village, full of elves who woke up, slowly beginning the harmony of the Eldar once more in the morning light, the peaceful atmosphere of the night fading easily into the peaceful atmosphere of the day.

With everything that had happened, the orcs, the revelation of the only one who she could think of as being responsible for the attack, she begun to wonder whether she could ever go back to that life, to the chores and the castle and the nice wooden bed.

Would she ever get that again? Could she ever go home?

"Miss White!"

Thorin calling her name startled her from her thoughts. She turned to look at the dwarf prince to see him looking at her, resting his hands on the hilt Orcrist, the blade-point he'd been using as a walking stick sitting on the ground, contempt for her born when he met her and amplified the previous night in his eyes.

"I suggest you keep up." He told her, before turning to follow the company along their way.

As Thorin moved to continue, Kili had moved up to the point his uncle had stopped at, and he, too, briefly turned to glance at Snow. In HIS eyes she saw pity, which was rather annoying coming from him. She did NOT like Kili.

She sighed tiredly and gave the elven village behind her one last glance of longing before she walked, broom-pole in hand, following Bifur on the path.

And with her the company continued, traveling east to the Misty Mountains, which they would cross through the pass of Caradhras, then their journey would continue east, to Erebor.

* * *

At the news that the dwarves had left, Elrond had shared a look with Saruman before joining Lindir in walking back down to the village to deal with the morning, and also to replace the sleep he had missed from the business of the previous night. Saruman stayed behind to scold Gandalf once more before following the elf lord, with the intent of retrieving his horse and returning to Isengard.

Galadriel, however, moved to the balcony to look out over the lands to the south, the lands she watched over and cared for as the Green Witch. Her residence, while east of the Mountains, was part of those lands, and the tree-city of elves was the place she held most dear.

She motioned for Gandalf to join her on the balcony, having the desire to speak with him. Her fellow wizard nodded, and, already standing, did as she said, walking to the balcony to stand with her. She gazed out over her lands a moment longer before turning to him.

"You will follow them?" she asked. She was referring to the company.

"Yes." Gandalf confirmed.

Galadriel continued, having finally made her decision on what course of action would be best from this moment on.

"You are right to help Thorin Oakenshield," she told him, announcing her agreement at last, "but Saruman is still right. I fear this quest has set in motion forces we do not yet understand. I feel…"

She paused, turning to look back over the lands to the south in thought, as she brought herself to understand her uneasy senses.

"I feel something moves in the shadows, unseen." She said finally. "Hidden from our sight. Every day it grows in strength. This orc pack that attacked you will not be the last."

Finally she turned to him once more, regarding him with her advice.

"Beware your enemy." She warned. "They are not what they seem. You must be careful."

Gandalf nodded to her, and without farewell, turned to return to the village, find his hat and follow the dwarves to the mountain, armed with this new guidance from Galadriel. If he was careful, and watchful, he could protect the dwarves from this new danger. This danger that he had caused the day he sent Thorin Oakenshield to reclaim his homeland. He had sent Snow into grave danger, and he had to amend that.

"Mithrandir?"

Galadriel's calm, fair, questioning voice prompted the wizard to stop in his tracks, halfway through the now empty circle to the stairs.

"Why the princess?" she asked.

Gandalf frowned, and turned, looking up at the Green Witch who had, too, turned, staff in hand, to look at him in question.

"I do not know." He finally answered.

The question she repeated from Saruman was one that confused him, for, in the end, he had no true answer.

"Shireland already has a queen, yet she is not as benevolent as the ones before her, nor as respected as the great kings of old."

The notion to restore prosperity to the kingdoms of men was a just one, and that would start with renewing their hope. But with Snow White? It was true, she was such a young Dúnedain, indeed very small, and perhaps not yet ready to face the dangers of the world. So young. So innocent. So… good-hearted.

"Saruman believes that is only great power that can hold evil in check. But that is not what I've found. I believe it is the small things that hold the darkness at bay. Simple acts of kindness and love are those that will save her people.

"Why Snow White?" He almost chuckled before he thought to his answer once more. "Perhaps it is because I am afraid, of this new danger, of how far men can fall. And helping her become the kindest of them all… that…" He smiled. "She gives me courage."

His fidgeting hands were stopped by the presence of another, skin soft as silk, and cool as a spring breeze. Calming as the smell of grass, and smooth as a Lórien trunk. Looking to them, then following her arm upwards, the wizard found himself gazing into the beautiful blue eyes of the most beautiful thing in Middle Earth to him. Galadriel's fond, calming, and smiling eyes.

"Do not be afraid, Mithrandir." She comforted.

Reaching her right hand from his, she gently lifted one of his many long, stray hairs behind his ear.

"You are not alone in this world, and you will not be against this new foe."

Her expression became at once earnest and caring, as she slipped into elvish with a promise.

"_If you should ever need my help, I will come._"

With that, she smiled, gazing fondly into the face of her bonded kin, hand on his shoulder. Gandalf, too, smiled and lowered his head in a respectful nod, returning with eyes to his hands, of which were once again joined by Galadriel's right, calmed and reassured by Flendar's words. And as he watched, her hand smoothly slid from his, and her presence vanished from his space.

He looked up to find that she indeed was gone, moving with the southern wind.

And he looked fondly to the lands of the south, watching after the green wisp in the sky he knew to be Lady Galadriel of Lórien.

* * *

**[1] This is the best description I can give for what they were trying to do in TLotR, where they used Christmas lights to give her eyes many highlights.**

**[2] I've called Galadriel an elf despite being one of the wizards. I'm afraid this'll be enlightened upon at the end of the trilogy, like the point above.**

**[3] When Gandalf and Saruman refer to the blue witch of the north as their 'sister', they mean her as in their 'sister-in-arms' really, or 'sister-in-order' if you will, meaning that she is one of the five wizards as opposed to their genetic sister. I don't think Gandalf and Saruman are genetic brothers. They could refer to Radagast as their 'brother' in the same way.**

**[4] I have a thought about the wizards of this version, that if one of them is killed their power fails, and their lifeforce drains until they die. More on this near the end of the trilogy I'm afraid, but it'll be well worth the wait!**

**[5] I was originally going to cut out the mention of Radagast from the scene, but I felt I needed to explain why the Order of the Five Wizards disbanded, and that was a good way to do so.**

**So, part of this mythology is my version of the White Council. Basically, my thought is that the wizards, collectively known as the Order of the Five Wizards, was once a group of guardians keeping watch on Middle Earth, until the orc war I mentioned, when the blue witch of the north goes missing and Radagast leaves soon after. This leaves Saruman, Galadriel, and Gandalf, who feels it may be right to disband the order entirely. Soon after Elrond forms the White Council with Galadriel and Saruman, and Gandalf is welcomed to it too, though he doesn't join them often.**

**And on Gandalf. Gandalf isn't trying to build up Middle Earth's defences as a primary objective, though helping Thorin take back Erebor will have that positive effect. Much of Middle Earth is in ruin. The races of men and dwarves have been declining. What Gandalf is trying to do is reignite hope in those races, and restore peace, and more importantly, prosperity to the lands such as Shireland and Erebor, along with of course Dale and Esgaroth, and eventually Gondor, but more on that at the end of ****The Battle of the Five Armies****. I'm sorry for putting you on hold for much of this.**

**So, I hope you liked my version of the White Council, and these scenes involving them, as well as my slightly modified depiction of Galadriel as the green witch of the south. We won't see her for a while, but, as we know, she will return, and once again, when she does, it will be different to in the movie, maybe even earlier. Who knows?**

**Anyway, next time the company take the pass of Caradhras, only they encounter a number of large problems…**

**Next Time: Chapter 13: Storm on the Mountain**


	14. Chapter 13: Storm on the Mountain

**REVIEW REPLIES:**

**Toby7400:  
Theories already? Well, keep them in mind. There's a lot going on that's much bigger than the quest.  
Thanks for the praise!**

**AUTHOR'S INTRO:**

**Everyone please note that I found a fatal flaw in the previous chapter, and that has been fixed by moving the mention of Radagast to earlier on in the chapter and relating it to a separate matter. If you want things to make slightly more sense, re-read the chapter.**

**Sorry for being a while. Sleep issues last week caused some problems writing the last chapter of ****Big Hero Glitch****, and as a result ****Snow White****. But I'm back! And here I have another chapter for you guys!**

**Enjoy!**

**Chapter 13: Storm on the Mountain**

The path to the mountains was steep and windy, twisting over the smaller, grassy slopes in a six-hour trek to the foot of the great barrier. The company would need to travel all this way and up into the Pass of Caradhras, as led by Balin, through which they'd pass through to the lands beyond and make their way to the Greenwood.

The company of thirteen dwarves and a maid travelled in a single line through the shrubbery on the rise east of the Hidden Valley, using the nearby pine forest as a guide. The forest ploughed down the hill, cutting off at a great ridge of rock jutting out of the mountains' roots, hiding the path from the weakening autumn rays.

Coming out from under the mountain, their path climbed round it and up the hill once more. Here they were bordered by the jagged and steep slope of the mountain range on their left, and a far, tumbling fall on rocky cliffs down the side again. Their only route was along the flat trail between the cliffs, a path that led only into one place: the white, snow-covered slopes of Caradhras.

The white mountains were brimmed with snow, covering the otherwise bare and barren rock with a soothing cold blanket. This would cover their path as they travelled into the Pass, a road that would snake through the Misty Mountains, on ledges and plains, on smooth slopes and under jagged outcroppings. It would be a day's travel to reach the other side, eight hours well into the night rising the slopes and roaming the cliffs, followed by another four traveling down the pass under outcroppings of rock like natural halls, before they'd finally reach the plains on the other side, marked by the Carrock, a large, tall rock built with steps that served as a lookout over the lands beyond.

The first leg of their journey led along a rise that led into the Misty Mountains. Past the large stones that were so shaped that they may as well have belonged to the houses of an ancient civilisation, long before even the legend of the rings began. Through these led a gravel road, which Balin headed the company along across the smooth-sided ridge.

From here the pass turned up, high into the mountain, leading them up a slope that left them knee-deep in snow. Here they had their trouble. They were nearly all waist-deep in snow, their trek slowing down much more than Thorin would like. A combination of the frost-biting cold and the waist-deep sleet even threatened to send their journey to a halt. **[1]**

But still they pushed on, climbing around the mountain and into the cliff-lands, the towering peaks and deep canyons that had sent many a passenger to their bone-crushing doom, if they had been unfortunate enough to slip off the loose gravel-stones along the ridge that made up their path.

This path was halfway through their journey, but the snow-lodged peak had weighed the company down, for by the time the fourteen had well and truly passed into the ridges, night had fallen, and a lighting storm had rolled in.

The dwarves and the maid were battered by thundering winds, drenched with the mountain-born torrent, and stunned by lightning as they made their way through the dark of night and storm up the pass. They had nought but the light of the crescent moon from the previous night, hiding behind the storm clouds, to guide them across the slippery rock, slick with rainwater and crushed rock from the mountain above.

A lightning crack thundered over them as they stumbled across the wet rock, and Thorin turned from his place behind Balin to call back to the other behind him.

"Hey!" he yelled over the noise of the storm. "Hold on!"

The company struggled on through the wind, hooded cloaks baring little comfort as they clung to the rocks in an attempt to remain on the mountain pass. Removing their attention from staying on the ridge would be fatal, as Snow nearly discovered when she tried to look out to the mountains beyond the ravine, only to stumble and slip on the slick gravel that tumbled off the edge. If it had not been for Dwalin and Bofur's quick reactions, her terrified scream would have been the last thing she had ever voiced.

"We must find shelter!" Thorin shouted after her near miss.

Thunder stuck once more, lightning striking from the clouded night sky. The dwarves were mostly unfazed, though Snow was too stunned by her brush with death to notice it. Nor did she see as something else fell from the sky.

The lightning wasn't the only danger in these mountains.

"LOOK OUT!" Dwalin yelled suddenly.

Everyone looked up to see something big, a giant clump of rock, bigger than the biggest boulder, come flying out of the clouds, falling through the rain and wind towards the mountain they now stood on. To their luck, it struck the peak far above their tenuous foothold, yet the impact still rocked the mountain, sending them ducking for cover as the rock shattered above them and came cascading down past them, into the ravine below.

"WHAT THE FLIPPING HELL WAS THAT!?" Snow wailed.

It was Balin who answered, looking off into the distance to a nearby peak.

"This is no thunderstorm!" he realised. "IT'S A THUNDER-BATTLE!"

The rest of the company turned and looked to where he pointed, and as they watched, something BIG, bigger than even the Shireland castle broke away from the rocky mount. Nearly as tall as the mountains themselves, made of stone and crumbling all over, a gigantic creature stood up from the rocky bed, then reached to snap what was left of the mountain-top from its place on the rock, its unparalleled strength doing the job without fail.

"Well bless me." Bofur breathed with disbelief. "The legends are true!"

"GIANTS! STONE GIANTS!"

Tales had been told in the Blue Mountains of creatures made of rock. Incredibly large and shaped like common folk, these Ent-like Stone Giants were said to wander their territory in the Misty Mountains, and to fight off other Stone Giants to the death if they came across one another. All other creatures were beneath them, excepting the great sorcerers, wizards, the most powerful of elves, and a few others that were powerful in the same magic that built these creatures. **[2]**

Of course, the dwarves of the Blue Mountains believed these to be fairy-tales, stories from the old kingdom of Dwarrowdelf dreamt up to scare young ones away from the Misty Mountains. But as the company had discovered, they were far more than legends.

The dwarves were as awe-inspired as they were scared by the sight of the Stone Giant reaching up and throwing the giant rock single-handedly through the storm, a screech of living stone filling the air as the creature engaged in its battle.

And a battle it was. For as the company watched, the stone slab sailed through the air past them, only to hit, to their astonishment and alarm, another giant of stone that lumbered its way through the mountain. The rock hit its chest with full force, sending the rock crumbling down into the ravine, and the giant toppling back into the mountain behind it.

"TAKE COVER, YOU FOOL!" Thorin yelled to Bofur, who was still watching the exchange of blows in awe.

Dori moved to pull him back, just as the mountain shook again, this time of its own accord. The rock itself was shaking, and Dwalin reached to pull both Snow and Ori back as the ridge they stood on began falling apart at its edge, the dwarves having to topple backward into the cliff face in order to remain on it.

"HOLD ON!"

Then, without warning, the path itself began to split. The mountain itself began to split in two, pebbles falling off into the abyss below, separating the dwarves half and half. Balin, Thorin, Gloin, Bifur, Bombur, Nori and Kili were trapped on one side, while Fili, Dori, Bofur, Snow, Dwalin, Ori and Oin were pulled from them. **[3]**

"GRAB MY HAND!" Fili yelled to Kili as the brothers were separated.

But no one could do anything but hold on tight and scream, wondering what was happening.

Then, even more, the edges of the rock separated from the rest of the mountain, cutting off any escape forward along the pass, or back the way they came as the entire stone heaved away from the peak.

Looking up, to their horror, the company found themselves on the knees of a third tyrannical stone giant, that pushed itself up from the cliff toward a standing position to join the fight with its kin.

Standing up on its own two feet, it was too late to notice as the first giant slammed its head into it, the head-butt smashing it back down into the mountain where it had previously lain. Crumbled rock flew everywhere as the two creatures literally butt heads, the magical beasts falling apart at the seams as they fought for supremacy in the mountain territory.

As the tyrannical knees fell toward the mountain, Thorin and his group found themselves positioned perfectly level with the continued path of Caradhras. As the walking ledge came to a shuddering stop, the prince led them on, time of the essence, to the other side. Kili jumped off just in time as the rocky knee began to move again, and the giant moved to stand up.

The leg moved away, revealing the sight that Snow and her dwarves were still stuck, clinging for dear life to their ledge, with nowhere to go to flee.

Meanwhile, the stone giant that bore them ducked to avoid a blow from the first one, before reaching and snatching a clump of rock from the mountain, not far above where Thorin and co. were residing. Growling, and swinging up with it, the giant struck the first giant with literally rock-shattering force, sending the beast flying off its feet and into the ravine below, defeated.

But the giant had no time to revel in its victory, for as it turned at the sound of lumbering footsteps of immeasurable size, the remaining giant hurled a giant rock, far larger than it, at the third giant's head. Before it could react, the boulder struck, sending its head flying clean off of its shoulders. What was left of it screeched in pain as the head came crashing down into the mountainside above Thorin and the dwarves once more, shuddering the mountain and making them duck again.

Meanwhile, Snow and her joined dwarves yelled in fright as the knee they stood on swung around as the dead giant turned in its death-throws, flying past Thorin on the pass and into the air away from them, before the leg began to fall again, toppling straight toward the mountain-cliff without stop.

Snow's eyes widened in fear as the jagged cliff-face came close and closer…

Thorin and his dwarves could do nothing but watch in horror as half the company was crushed under a literal mountain of rock, squashed against the cliff-face ahead on their path by the giant's leg.

"NOOOOOO!" He shouted. "NOOOOO!"

Then at last the leg fell away, the ledge of the pass crumbling from where it was born into the abyss of the mountains, yet Thorin's eyes lit up in hope as he saw, to his surprise, that none of the company, no blood nor torn clothes, could be seen amongst the rubble, as the stone giant fell beyond their sight.

And so he ran, followed swiftly by the dwarves on his side, hoping beyond hope that their friends were not gone.

"No!" he yelled, hoping not the worst. "Fili!"

"Fili! Snow!" Kili joined in from the back.

Just maybe, they'd survived.

The impact of the Giant's knee had torn open a large ledge in the mountain, and in doing so had exposed a large, sandy cave. And, to his luck, Balin, followed by Thorin and Gloin, discovered six surviving dwarves, bruised but otherwise unscathed, brushing themselves from the rubble in this newfound clearing in the mountainside, panting from their brush with death. Thorin collapsed against the cliff in relief.

"Fili!?" Kili kept shouting from the back. "Are you alright!?"

"It's alright!" Came Gloin's reply. "They're alive!"

Thorin smiled in gladness, and immediately moved forward to help the dwarves up. Little did he notice the terrified look that now adorned Bofur's face.

"And Snow!?" Kili added. "Where is she!?"

"Where's Snow!?" Bofur looked around worriedly. "WHERE'S THE MAID!?"

Unbeknownst to them, Snow had tumbled off the cliff when the giant had crashed, and had barely been able to find a hold on the rock in time. Her arms were bruised, her hands scratched on the rock, and her already-bent spirits heavily damaged by the collision with the rock, and now here she was, hanging off the cliff with a heavy travelling pack on her back, and her boots clinging to her feet only with the straps.

She'd tried to pull herself up, only to fall back down to her hand-holds again. Without the dwarves, there was no way she could get out of this.

"HELP!" She screamed louder than ever before, her broken spirit reaching out.

"THERE!" Bofur yelled as he turned to her call.

"GET HER!" Dwalin shouted, sending Ori tumbling after her hands.

And not a moment too soon, for at last her injured hands had to rest, and let go. With only a split-second to react, she screamed and grabbed on once again before she could fall to her death. Only now she was out-of-reach of the other dwarves. Even as Ori and Bofur shouted for her to grab their hands, she could not reach them.

Then, Thorin _jumped_ off the cliff himself, one hand on the ledge, and reached with the other to grab Snow's travelling dress by the shoulder-bell, and hauled her up with his greater strength to the waiting arms of the others. Up she climbed, by the aid of Ori and Bofur, making her way up to safety on the path.

But then Thorin's grip on the mountain slipped as more pebbles gave way, and he fell. With a yell, Dwalin reached and grabbed his arm, leaving the dwarf prince dangling by at in the open air above the abyss, his only lifeline Dwalin' arm muscles. Slowly, but surely, Dwalin pulled with an enormous grunt and a tremendous heave, hauling Thorin back onto the ledge to safety with the company.

Snow panted and heaved, her little spirit rent and feeling terrible as her unused adrenalin faded away. Her tears of fear mixed with the torrential rain as the weight of the adventure on the pass came crashing down on her.

'_I am not at home I am not at home I am not at home…_'

"I thought we'd lost our burglar!"

Dwalin's relief brought her back to reality as she turned to look at the gruff dwarf, kneeling up on the ground, Thorin moving to stand by his side.

Then Thorin turned and looked down upon her, scorn on his face as he said next:

"She's been lost, ever since she left home. She should never have come. She has no place amongst us."

And with that, her spirits shattered completely. The condescending dwarf prince, unknowing of how much he'd hurt her with those words, just stalked away, leaving Snow sitting, broken, on the ledge by the cliff.

* * *

Out on the plains of Eriador, in the torrential storm, the White Warg sniffed the drenched soil for clues to the dwarves' location. A warg's sense of smell was infallible, the alpha's even more so. It could pick up the merest whiff of a mouse from miles away. It was this that the pack of hunting-orcs used to track the company this far, and it was what they'd use to continue to do so until they caught and killed them.

The evil beast growled as it picked up a scent, and its orc rider bent down to confirm its senses.

"_The scent is fresh!_" Azog announced to the rest of the pack behind him.

He looked up in their hunting path, the direction the small led, and, lo and behold, off in the distance he saw the Misty Mountains, and in particular:

"_They have taken the mountain pass!_" He deduced.

Yelling, he led the pack onward, chasing the dwarves and the maid down as far as they travelled.

* * *

Thorin had led the company into the cave the impact had opened up in the cliff-face, and, after Dwalin had deemed it safe, the company moved in to shelter for the night from the storm outside. No fires had been lit; Thorin had told Nori not to when he tried with bits of a stolen elvish chair, saying that caves in the mountain were seldom unoccupied. It would be too dangerous to start a fire amongst the home of such hideous creatures such as goblins, or worse, orcs. **[4]**

"We start out at first light." Thorin had ordered them as they settled in. "Bofur, take the first watch."

At this Balin had approached, reminding him of their plan, to wait in the mountains for Gandalf.

"Plans change." Was all Thorin had replied.

And for good reason. They now had only seven days to reach the Lonely Mountain for Durin's Day, and they were only halfway through the pass of Caradhras. They had no time to wait upon the wizard.

It was merely an hour later, and eleven dwarves were fast asleep and snoring again. Bofur was on watch and Thorin was lying awake with not the weariness to sleep.

But Snow, too, lay awake. She couldn't sleep. She tried. Every time, her three-day exhaustion would be jutted aside by Thorin's earlier words about her. No, not even about her. He'd said it to her face!

He had seen it. The longing looks back to Shireland early on, and again back in Rivendell. Her siding with Elrond on the matter of entering the mountain had enraged him, made him well and truly see that she was too scared of the mission to accomplish it.

Maybe Thorin was right. She should never have come.

Making her decision, she opened her eyes once more and checked on the dwarves. To her eyes they were all fast asleep and snoring, as they usually did. They wouldn't notice if the Stone Giant came back, much less if she left.

Quietly, she got up, and set about returning her sword, or dagger, or letter-opener apparently, back to her dress' belt. She rolled her blanket back up tight and strapped it to her travelling pack before pulling the whole thing back on her back, and finally picked up her broom-pole come walking-stick. She was now ready to leave.

Shifting the stick to her other hand, she walked through the cave, weaving between the snoring dwarves to make her way back to the entrance, and the roaring storm outside. She flinched as Dori fidgeting in his sleep as she stepped over him, but apart from that her journey was uneventful.

Until she made it to the entrance.

"Where do you think you're going?"

She stopped and sighed. She'd forgotten Bofur was keeping watch.

Bofur. Pretty much the only one of the dwarves she had fully befriended in the four days they'd been on the road. He was friendly, jocular, and could be very caring for the others in the company when needed. And right now he was concerned by what Snow was up to, leaving in the middle of the night and the storm.

Snow turned her head to him, and after a few moments, she told him.

"Back to Rivendell."

Rivendell, she'd decided, was the only place she could call anything like 'home'.

Bofur stood up in a hurry, stepping near her to convince her back.

"You—you can't turn back now!" he urged. "You're part of the company! You're one of us!"

She sighed.

"I'm not, though, am I?" she asked.

Bofur looked at her incredulously, so she continued.

"Thorin said I shouldn't have come." She elaborated. "He saw the way I looked at Rivendell. He was right. I can't be on this journey."

Little did they know that Thorin, who lay awake, listened to her words, seeing how she saw it in her mind.

"I'm not a princess, I'm a maid. I don't know what I was thinking."

"You're homesick!" Bofur told her. "I understand-"

"No, you don't understand! None of you do! You're dwarves!" she erupted at him quietly. "You're USED to this life, living in the road, never settling in one place, not belonging anywhere! I had no choice but leave the only place I belonged, even if it was where I was treated like the dirt I was cleaning every day! You've never HAD a place to belong!"

She trailed off as she suddenly paid full attention to Bofur's expression. The normally joking dwarf now wore an uncharacteristic sorrowful frown, gazing at nothing in particular as he soaked in her words. At once she blanched as she realised what she'd said to him. She broke eye contact and looked down to the ground, as she had done in front of her stepmother on occasion, and set out to apologise.

"I-I'm sorry." She said. "I didn't mean to-"

"No."

She looked up to see Bofur looking back down to her again, a lost look in his eyes as he spoke.

"No, you're right." He realised, humbled.

He turned to look among the dwarves that now rested throughout the cave.

"We don't belong anywhere."

And Thorin, the last dwarf still awake sighed barely where he lay at the realisation of those words. It was a problem he wished to change if he could. To reach the mountain and reclaim it, and make a home for the dwarves beyond the life of peace and plenty he had built in the Blue Mountains. It was what he wished to do, reclaim their homeland. In the end, that was what it was about. Reclaim somewhere to belong.

But now even Snow had to stop and think about what he'd said. She really didn't belong anywhere either. She'd been chased from her home by orcs, and the fear that the Queen herself wanted her dead. Given a chance she could find a place in Rivendell. A slim chance. But one thing was for sure: her place was not here on the road.

Bofur turned back to the maid with barest of sad nods.

"I wish you all the luck in the world." He told her.

She nodded.

"I really do." He added, smiling sadly down to her.

He stepped up to her and pat her on the shoulder, and she returned the same smile, realising that this would probably be the last time she saw him, or any of the company. They would all be sad she'd gone. Except perhaps Thorin, who didn't think she belonged with them any more than she did.

Kili would be Kili. She did NOT like Kili.

Finally, the two broke their one-armed embrace, and Snow turned to walk out into the dark and stormy night in the mountains, hoping to somewhere find her way home through what was left of the pass.

But as Bofur moved to turn away, his eyes caught something.

"What's that?" he asked.

"Hmm?"

Snow turned to see him looking down at something on her belt. Her sword. A blue light was shining through the gap between the hilt and the scabbard.

Her heart sank in horror as she lifted the knife from its holster, revealing the sapphire-blue light to all who were awake. The last time it did that…

Her wide eyes slowly returned to Bofur's in horror as she realised what was coming.

Thorin too noticed this, and turned to see that Orcrist was doing the same. He also noticed that the sand on the ground was sifting away to reveal rather large cracks in what they had assumed was a solid stone floor.

His eyes widened as he realised what was happening.

"Wake up!" he shouted to the sleeping dwarves. "WAKE UP!"

The dwarves began to stir as the sounds of a large mechanism began echoing through the stone walls. But they were too late to do anything, as the plated floor opened up, and the thirteen dwarves and the maid were tossed into the cave system of the Misty Mountains.

* * *

**[1] This is the snowy mountain where the fellowship climbed the mountain back in ****The Fellowship of the Ring**** when THEY were climbing Caradhras. It's where Frodo slipped down the slope and Boromir nearly took the ring.**

**[2] You guys realise I'm just making up this mythology as I go along, right?**

**[3] In the film Kili was stick with Snow and Fili was stuck with Thorin, but for the purpose of this story I have put it the other way around. You'll see why eventually.**

**[4] Gloin was actually the one who tried to start the fire, but he WAS using bits of an elf chair, so it'd make more sense if Nori had taken them.**

**Not a massive fan of my writing for this chapter, but I can't find what's wrong with it, so oh well.**

**Anyway, I don't have much to say this time 'round, so I'll just leave you guys be!**

**Next Time: Chapter 14: Goblintown**


	15. Chapter 14: Goblintown

**REVIEW REPLIES:**

**Dinosaur Imperial Soldier:  
You'll find out right here!**

**Toby7400:  
Thanks! I was worried I wasn't doing it correctly or something.  
And yes, indeed Snow WILL be doing more very soon!**

**AUTHOR'S INTRO:**

**Hello guys and gals! I'm back!**

**As you'd know if you'd read my other story, Big Hero Glitch (which you should, 'cause it's superheroes and awesomeness!), you'd know my tale of my computer and I getting sick, hence why I've been away for so long. But I am now back, and here I am with another instalment of Snow White and the Thirteen Dwarves: An Unexpected Journey!**

**This time, we enter Goblintown! You might expect this is where the plot diverges a bit, but actually what happens to Snow is very important to my version of the story, 'cause it plays away in Mirkwood and the Woodland Realm. Plus it's the key to her becoming a true adventurer, rather than just a maid, Snow's character arc for this first part.**

**So, sadly, much of this is just novelisation, but I hope you'll enjoy anyway!**

**Edit: If updating a chapter makes the story show up on the Story Alerts page, at the bottom I've added a bit more to kick off the next chapter, as I've found it was so far way too long.  
And don't worry, I WILL give an explanation for my two-month hiatus in the next intro!**

**Chapter 14: Goblintown**

The members of the company were tossed and tumbled across ragged rock as they fell down into the holes in the mountain. Rough stone grated against hard leather and soft flesh alike, giving everyone hard bruises, and Snow herself, without sleeves, received scratches and scrapes all over from the sliding across the surfaces of the tunnel. The caves twisted and turned, and everyone screamed in surprise and fear as they were jostled this way and that by the sudden turns.

Down and down they fell, turned 'round and 'round and around again, before they finally fell out of a narrow hole at the end of the long, vertical tunnel. Falling into what seemed to be some kind of net, they piled up on top of each other, stopped from falling off into the abyss by the wooden spokes of the net, set up as a bowl-like fence.

Snow was the last to fall, collapsing in the pile on top of poor Bombur, facing the perfect position to see a path leading off from the net. Fringed by spikes, stakes and torches, all made with ratty wood of crude craftsmanship, the path was made of bare rock, not even smoothed for comfort. The air was hot and sticky, humidity clinging to her skin and forcing her to sweat, only causing more discomfort on her scraped arms. Looking around, she could see the torchlight reflecting off the cave-walls, the orange light casting an ugly glow on the underground world they now found themselves in.

But the worst part of it was the horde of creatures coming towards them.

They looked like orcs, but smaller, with grittier, paler skin, with less armour to hide it, appearing more savage than the seasoned hunters and warriors of the north. Their heads were topped by small, yet standing out, pointy ears, and their skins were covered in warts, blisters, and other ugly formations, showing signs of little care for cleanliness or hygiene.

These were goblins. And there was a horde of them coming right for the company.

"Look out! Look out!"

The cry was in vain, for the goblins swarmed over them in seconds, grabbing them, clawing at them, stealing their weapons. They climbed over the company, snatching them and forcing them down through a veritable tunnel of hot, stinking goblins along the path. The dwarves struggled, trying to force themselves out of the slimy grasps, even managing to push a few off the fenceless path into the abyss below, but sheer numbers of the mountain-creatures kept them in line, punched and pushed down into the caves.

Snow recoiled and struggled with all her might, the ugly creatures snarling into her face and breathing their hideous breaths all over her. Their sweat crawled all over her skin, mingling with her own, and the constant pushing and prodding of the creatures made this for an incredibly uncomfortable situation.

The goblins pushed them along rough stone paths, splinter-filled wooden ramps and shakey bridges. Occasionally one of the dwarves rebelled, but the goblins were quick to force their prisoners back into line. Dwalin in particular drew much of their attention, and the pack turned on the tallest dwarf to keep him in.

They in fact became so preoccupied by the tallest of the company that they completely forgot about one of the smallest.

Snow stopped being pushed as the goblins at the rear moved forward to help with Dwalin. The ugly creatures just sidestepped past her, forgetting about her entire existence. Getting an idea, she slowly ducked to the ground…

Nori was pushed around along the ramp past some sort of blockage on the wooden surface, but that didn't stop him from tripping on its edge. Still jostling and yelling in his place, he looked back to glance at whatever had tripped him up…

…to see Snow curled up in a foetal position, completely unnoticed by the goblins.

His eyes went wide and he stopped yelling, even as his goblin guards pushed him further into the caves behind the others.

The goblins shuffled past, pushing the dwarves further in, determined on keeping their prisoners, but leaving the forgotten maid behind on the path.

With the goblins passed, Snow finally looked up. Spotting the horde still ahead, she froze for a moment. Then, as they began to disappear into the caves, she gave a quick glance about herself before crawling behind an untidy stash of stolen weapons to watch them crawling down the tunnels, the thirteen dwarves with them, captive.

Eventually, they were gone from sight and sound. The only presence besides Snow were the bats, the only sounds the dying ricketing of the bridge. Only now did the adventuress-maid stand up.

She took a moment to take stock of herself. Her travelling pack was missing, as was her broom-pole. All she had left was her sword, as well as the 'handkerchief' and various other things in her utility belt pockets. Luckily her dress was still in one piece, the tough fibre sturdy enough to have survived the bumps and scrapes of the past few minutes. Her arms were not so lucky, covered in scratches and bruises from the trip down, some of which were still bleeding.

She most certainly had the knowledge to patch herself up, coming from many troubles during her time serving the castle, but that would have to come later. For now she had to rescue the dwarves. One might find the irony amusing in any other situation.

Drawing her sword fully, she blinked momentarily in the bright, magical blue light of the elven blade. Naturally it would remain blue; this was a goblin-kingdom after all. She considered re-sheathing it; the light would surely attract goblins' attentions. But then again, if they were to find her, it would be more useful in her hand then her scabbard.

Glancing around, nervously but determinedly, she began to step forward along the path, and easier issue without the jostling of the goblins, following the horde to wherever they may be going, and wherever they may be taking the company she so relied on out here.

Across the bridge at to the other side, she kept behind the goblins, the last barely in her sight, so as to not be spotted whilst still being able to follow. They moved around a bend and out of sight again, and she moved to follow them.

But before she could step further, a goblin landed hard on its feet mere metres in front of her. Naturally, she let out a frightened squeak, the hideous creature startling her, before scolding herself for catching its attention. But it was already facing toward her. It had already known she was there.

The ugly creature, its poorly-crafted goblin-sword in hand, screeched before running at the girl. She shuffled back, but it was too fast, catching up to her within seconds. It swung its sword, and Snow barely held up her sword in time to block, though it was knocked to the side. Again and again it attempted a strike, each time blocked and each time pushing her back until she stumbled on the bridge-posts. On the last swing she turned, managing to throw it back off of her and onto the bridge, and her shuffling backward into where it had stood moments ago.

But the goblin did not back down; it was not finished yet. It charged off the bridge, attacking again, her continually doing her best to block the blows before they hit home. Another swing, and she twirled again, sending the goblin tumbling off its feet to the wooden planks of the ramp ahead. It rolled over and growled up at her as she stumbled back again, sword at the ready. Then it stood up and screeched, running forward in earnest, whacking down again and again, even going so far as to simply smack her in the face with its free hand.

With her momentarily distracted, it lunged in for the killing blow, only for her to drop her sword to block. The impact send the blade flying out of the goblin's hand into the air, and Snow stepped away from the bridge again as the creature looked up, even angrier than before.

Shrieking again, it jumped up and latched to her back, and she struggled to try and force it off. But it held on tight, and reached in with its head and bit her hard in the exposed skin near her neck. She cried in pain and turned, even as she stumbled backward.

The goblin finally let go, but not for her struggles. Gravity took an effect as the goblin and the girl tumbled off the rocky cliff, Snow dropping her sword in the process. The goblin tumbled straight down into the abyss, while she hit an old, damaged bridge. The bridge gave way, and she reached to grab on of the frayed rope in a last-ditch attempt to break her fall. Unfortunately, all she got was rope-burn.

And so Snow screamed in fright as she tumbled down the rocky surfaces, following the goblin and her sword into the dark, dank depths of the caves under the Misty Mountains.

* * *

The dwarves struggled as they were constantly jostled and jolted by the goblins, pushed down path after path through the caves under the mountains, completely unaware of what was happening to their burglar. They noticed they were now being pushed past strange huts built into the rocky walls. These were the houses of the goblins, their homes, and their quarters.

But the ugliness did not stop there. The company's forced path passed through a large crack in the rock-face, and stepping through there they found themselves in the most hellish of hell-worlds. An entire town was build out of a complete jumble of wooden planks and ropes and ugly goblin houses stuck into the mountain-walls, covered with torches and goblins and stinking of sweat and bodily odour, creating a garish sight of orange-shone wood, glinting in the myriad of torchlight. All around them, goblins jeered down at them, the trespassers in their town, screeching their dislike down at the unwelcome company of the dwarves.

This was Goblintown, in both residents and name.

Their path was one of the splintering wooden ramps, held sturdy above the chasm below by ropes and stakes and the spires of rock in the caves. This path led up into the middle of the goblin-town, to a large outcrop of rock, one which acted as a throne for the ugliest of them all.

The Goblin-King, or the Great Goblin, as he was known.

He was many times the size of all other goblins, incredibly fat, and sweating his ill form over everything. Even from a distance, the dwarves could hear the hacking coughs from the sick king. A sickness born of the unhygienic, dirty and sweaty lifestyle of the goblins. He was covered in warts and blisters and boils, and framing his chin was a large, cancerous wattle of fat that just hung there, garishly extending his ugly face. In his hand was a chieftain's staff, an ox's head on a pike, and his barely-haired head bore a crown of thorns that spiked the air above him, vicious and intimidating to his goblin servants.

The goblin in lead of the horde that had captured the dwarven company led them all the way, and finally brought them to a stop a few metres from the throne of the Great Goblin. Their many goblin captors dropped their weapons in a pile in front of them, leaving just enough room as the fat king pushed himself clumsily out of his chair, using some of his servants as a stepladder to land down heavily in front of the prisoners.

"Who would be so bold as to come armed into MY kingdom?"

He asked this question in a deep, yet still goblin-ish voice to the assembled company in front of him, spittle flying all over them, even as he stabilised and stood up straight as he could. A hand on his hip, the other on his staff, he glared down at them as he questioned them.

"Spies? Thieves!? ASSASSINS!?" he shrieked his paranoia.

"Dwarves, your malevolence." the lead goblin answered.

He frowned in confusion.

"Dwarves?" he asked curiously, though the nervousness was still there.

"We found 'em on the front porch!" the lead goblin explained.

"Well, don't just stand there! Search them!" the Great Goblin ordered the horde. "Every crack! Every crevice!"

At his request, the goblins began jostling the company again, this time reaching through into their leather clothes to grab any loose item they could find. The dwarves once again struggled, but the goblins still got what they wanted, finding their loose items and gathering them. One snatched Oin's hearing aid from his hands, and was quick to toss it to the wooden floor and crush it underfoot.

The Great Goblin watched them curiously, scanning his eyes back and forth over the writhing horde and the company before him as the searching came to an end. Finally, the search complete, with no more possessions to take, he began his interrogation.

"What are you doing in these parts?" he questioned.

The dwarves did nothing, just stood still, silent. They just looked up at the fat goblin with various mixtures of boredom, contempt, and fear on their faces.

"SPEAK!" he ordered.

Bofur turned to look back at the dwarves behind him, both otherwise did and said nothing.

"Very well."

The Goblin-King turned to the crowd of assembled goblins in the town above them.

"If we cannot make them talk," he announced, ", we'll make them SQUAWK!"

The entire town cheered in approval at the thought of doing these trespassers harm, and cheered more as the Goblin-King gave his next orders.

"Bring up the Mangler!" he called. "Bring up the Bone-Breaker!"

He pointed to Ori.

"Start with the youngest!"

"WAIT!"

All eyes were turned, as Thorin Oakenshield stepped forward, between his fellow dwarves to stand at the forefront of the company, right in full view of every goblin in Goblintown, and more importantly, the Goblin King himself.

The Great Goblin's eyes lit up in amused surprise.

"Well, well, well!" he stepped back, looking the dwarf up and down in interest. "Look who it is!"

Thorin stepped forward as he continued his mocking introduction.

"Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, king under the Mountain."

He stooped low to him, arms out in a mocking bow, and goblins all around them squawked their amusement. Then he looked up and continued his teasing.

"Oh!" he exclaimed. "But I'm forgetting, you don't HAVE a mountain! And you're not a king! Which makes you… nobody, really."

He frowned a sardonically empathetic frown at the prince, before leaning back and smirking again at the stoically unmoving prince.

"I know someone who would pay a pretty price for your head." He stated. "Just a head, nothing attached."

The goblins chuckled again, even as he continued.

"That, and the bleeding heart of that girl of yours!" he announced louder, looking over the company, trying to spot someone. "Where… where is she?"

The dwarves looked also, suddenly becoming more frantic as they realised Snow was missing. Calls of "Where's Snow!?", mainly coming from Bofur, the last one to see her, echoed over the group, though Thorin meanwhile rolled his eyes and turned back to face the Goblin-King.

"The maid Snow White is no longer in our company." He announced.

The dwarves stopped and turned to him in surprise. The Great Goblin raised a grey, matted eyebrow.

"Tell me." He said. "What does your employer want with Miss White?"

"I'LL do the questioning around here!" he protested. "And I just told you! He wants her dead! For what, I cannot say, but she must be rather special if she's on the death list of the Pale Orc!"

Thorin froze. No. He couldn't possible mean…

"Yes." The Goblin-King confirmed. "You know of whom I speak. The Pale Orc, astride his white warg."

Thorin was shaking now, glaring up as the goblin-filth with murder in his eyes. That monster couldn't possibly be…

"Azog the Defiler…" he spat. "…was destroyed."

But the Great Goblin just smirked in amusement at the dwarf prince's anger, his defiance, his refusal to accept his word.

"He was slain in battle long ago!" Thorin yelled. "And _I_ was the one to slay him!"

"So you think his defiling days are done, do you?" The goblin mocked.

Then, letting out an evil, mocking laugh, he stepped away and to the side, to where a tiny, malformed goblin sat on a parch on a zipline, holding a record of the events at hand. The tiny creature sat at attention as the Goblin-King approached, and listened to his orders as he gave them.

"Send word to the Pale Orc." He ordered to the little scribe, who hurriedly scribbled it down. "Tell him I've found one of his prizes!"

And as the Goblin-King stepped back to his interrogation of the panic-stricken dwarves and their unbelieving prince, the little scribe pulled a lever and started off down the zipline into the caves, to where he could follow his orders and inform the Defiler his work is almost done.

In his journey he travelled through Goblintown's caves, laughing all the way, over many dark crevices. This happened to include the front porch, right over where the Pale Orc's other target had fallen…

* * *

Snow woke up feeling horrible. Everything ached, her skin was covered in dried snot, sweat and grime, and there were strange, rubbery things sticking up from the ground around her. Her many cuts and bruises from the last few days stung, and her dishevelled black hair stuck to her face. She could feel her bow was out of place, her shoulder-bells dislodged, and she was certain her belt and dress were riding up her—

But as she regained consciousness from her long fall, even before she could shake off her fatigue enough to stir, she froze, and listened. A ragged breathing could be heard, from right in front of her.

And sure enough, sprawled across the rocks in front of her, blocked slightly from view by whatever the rubbery things were, was the very goblin she had just barely survived. The one who had sent her and itself toppling into the dark caves under the misty mountains. The very same that had added a bite mark to her collection of injuries.

The goblin made barely a move, probably in nearly as much pain as she was. They had, after all, fallen what must have been a fifty metres. Turning her head to look up from under the strange, rubbery things, she could see barely a hint of the orange torchlight above. She could almost look back at the goblin in sympathy. Almost.

But as she turned her head back to monitor the creature, another set of breaths wheezed from out of the dark. This one, too, was ragged, but less like recovering from injury, this one sounded more as if it had been breathing soot for far too long. Like a blacksmith who had spent too long in his forge, amplified a hundred-fold. Its footsteps were nearly silent, sometimes scraping across the gravely rock, frequent enough to suggest a four-legged gait.

Then, as she watched, a head peeked, no, slithered out from around a corner in the tunnel, barely visible in the dark cave but highlighted by two big, white eye-lights, gleaming like a wolf's with the air of a snake, eyes that shone from the darkness. It moved slowly, stalking, easing closer to the goblin, and by extension Snow's hiding spot. Without her sword on-hand, all she could do was lie still, and hope the creature didn't spot here through the… rubbery things.

As the creature neared, it moved faster, almost as if excited, even as it stepped into the vague light shining through the rocks above. And then Snow could see this creature for what it truly was.

It was such a strange little thing. Its bald head was framed with two pointed, elf-like ears, and yet it was most certainly smaller than even Snow. Its body and limbs, pale from almost a lifetime underground, was stick-thin, indicating a life living off rocks. It was nearly clotheless, wearing nothing but a very thin rag with makeshift pocket to hide its sensitive regions. Its face was hidden by the shadows of the cave, but its eye-light still glinted from the dark.

As the creature came up upon the goblin it… well, it seemed to smile.

"Yesssssss!"

Its voice was a hiss, a throaty, snake-like voice slithering from its mouth. The creature seemed to almost chuckle with joy, in an excitement for finding this goblin.

"Yess?" it said again.

Then once more, this time sounding almost sinister:

"Yesssssssss."

It crawled around the downed goblin, examining it with its excitement.

"Yessssssss!" it breathed out with joy.

Then it seemed to choke on nothing, its throat convulsing as it made an attempt to breathe.

"Gollum, gollum."

Recovering from its croak, it leaped across the goblin, which could barely react from its weariness, even as the creature grabbed its feet and began to pull, dragging the now-helpless goblin across the sharp stones of the ground. The creature certainly didn't care for this goblin's well-being. Where could it be taking it, Snow wondered.

Suddenly, the goblin stirred, violently. It reached forward and began to slap the creature off, screeching, almost in fear, as it did. But the creature reacted, calms as if this had happened many times, grabbing the goblin's arm with its left as the goblin reached to slap again, while bringing its right to grab a jagged stone from nearby. Snow could do nothing but watch, as the creature beat the goblin, whacking it, bludgeoning it, shaking about with its scuffles to hit the goblin with a killing blow.

But then something happened, something Snow couldn't help but notice. Something gold flew out of its pocket, sailing through the air before falling to the rock with a 'clink'. It rebounded and flew again, bouncing one more before finally settling against the rock floor of the cave.

But the creature didn't seem to notice as it made a final whack against the goblin's skull, knocking it out cold. Breathing heavily, the creature dropped the stone in agitation and stood up to grab the goblin's legs again. Then it seemed to grumble something at it strained to pull the downed goblin away.

"Nasty… goblinses!" it complained in the common tongue.

"Better than… old bones, Precious." it decided as it continued to pull. "Better than… nothing!"

It sounded like this little creature with the golden thing and the wheezing choke meant to eat the goblin. What was it with creatures in Middle Earth and eating other races?

Then again, the goblin HAD tried to kill her.

As the creature and its prey rounded the corner once more, Snow finally stood from her rubbery hiding place, amongst what turned out to be some very large mushrooms, and crouched as she checked around for any other dangerous creature that could be living down here. Satisfied that the only things in this cave were her, the goblin and the creature, she stood up properly and rearranged her clothing in an attempt to make things a little more bearable. Bow in the right place, shoulders re-places, belt and dress fitted back, she moved onto the next important thing.

Looking around, she spotted the golden object the creature had dropped, and more importantly, a magic, blue glow lead her to the elven letter-opener, gleaming just as bright as it had above. That must mean the goblin was still alive, unless the sword was only still gleaming because of the goblins above.

With her blade back in-hand, she stepped forward to look around briefly at the cave she found herself in, before turning her attention to the thing that creature had dropped. The light of her sword illuminated the ground around it, and she kneeled down to examine it.

"What's this?" she wondered aloud. **[1]**

It was a ring. A plain, golden ring, barely a scratch on its surface. Truly, it was rather unremarkable for a ring. No gemstones, no diamonds, no fancy engraving or intricate crafting, nothing. Just a plain, smooth, golden ring.

She picked it up and gazed at it in interest.

"A ring?" **[1]**

"YYYYYEEAAAAAAARRRRGGGHHH!"

Snow glanced up, startled by the strained yell made by the strange creature, and she listened at it continued to complain about the goblin it had caught.

"TOO MANY BONSES, PRECIOUS!" it whined to itself. "NOT ENOUGH FLESH!"

"SHUT UP!" it shouted, then suddenly went quiet. Strange.

Absently pocketing the ring, Snow looked around the little cave she'd found herself in. There were various, dark, spooky-looking tunnels leading off from the cave, unfortunately all of them high up, too high for her to climb into. The rock walls were far too steep and jagged for her to climb, making the climb back to the goblin town impossible, especially with her arms still cut from their first fall when the dwarves were captured.

Which reminded her, she still needed to somehow get back up to find and rescue the dwarves. All down to a maid who wasn't even a burglar.

'_I am not at home._'

But then, she didn't have a home anymore , and she was stuck in this situation, so she would just have to try to get out.

Try how, though? She couldn't climb with her sore arms, not that she was entirely skilled with that anyway, and the only tunnel at her level led to…

…to the only speaking creature in these caves.

That tunnel led around a corner. It could go on forever as far as she knew, split off in a million different directions, but perhaps it could lead her at least back to the goblin-tunnels. It would make sense. Not every goblin that creature had… encountered, would have fallen down from above. If she could find those tunnels…

But to do that, she'd quite possibly have to ask for directions.

She sighed. So this was an adventure. Running from orcs, days without sleep, and asking directions from a creature that may very well want to eat her.

But as tired as she was, she stole herself to take that first step into the dark tunnel. The first step to, hopefully, her way out.

* * *

**Didn't feel the need for annotations this time.**

**Anyway, I suppose I forgot to mention in previous ANs, but each part of the trilogy has a character arc for Snow, kinda inspired by ****The Hobbit****, but mostly just my headcanon for Snow. This time it's obviously her realising she can be an adventurer, a warrior-princess like her** **great-great-great-great-aunt, Queen Lillianna the Bullroarer. In ****The Desolation of Smaug**** and ****The Battle of the Five Armies**** the arc changes, as you'll see in both of those, both of which I'm REALLY looking forward to!**

**So yeah, this chapter's not much different to the movie, apart from the added reference to the plot I'm tying into this. We'll get back to Thorin's new knowledge that the orcs are after Snow when they all escape the mountains, but first they have to get out…**

**So, but short I suppose, but it's longer than the ones I wrote for ****Disney-PIXAR's The Incredibles****. I wanted to stop before returning to Snow, as the next chapter is very special…**

**Speaking of the next chapter, it's the one I've been looking forward to since day 1! It's one that needs no introduction!**

**Next Time: Chapter 15: Riddles in the Dark**


	16. Chapter 15: Riddles in the Dark

**REVIEW REPLIES:**

**Dinosaur Imperial Soldier:  
Again, you'll see!  
You know, it's not nice to ask these questions when you fully well know they're gonna be in the next chapter. You might as well wait and just read how it happens.**

**SharKohen:  
FINALLY! Someone who reads BOTH my stories!  
Thank you for enjoying it! I aim to please! =)  
Too true about Snow! I made a conscious decision not to write for the Snow White of the Disney movie. I felt her character was unrealistic for her situation, though this WAS before I was told she was only 14 in the film. I hope, if Disney decide to remake ****Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs****for the 100****th****anniversary of the film in 2038, they write her character properly, like a more Disney-Princess version of the one I have here.  
Still, thanks for agreeing! AND reading, DEFINITELY the reading!**

**AUTHOR'S INTRO:**

**Hello everyone! I am really REALLY sorry about my near-two-month hiatus! I was gonna continue writing right after exams, then I fell into a bit of a funk and couldn't do anything for a month! And when I DID gain back the compulsion I started having sleeping problems, not to mention this chapter ended up being REALLY long! I had to move the first part of it into the end of the previous one!**

**But now I'm back! And hopefully I can be quicker to upload chapters! I need to catch up on my other story, Big Hero Glitch, since I'm now two chapters behind on it, but I AM FINALLY BACK!**

**So, this chapter is kinda novelisation again, with some changes, until near the end. I made some deviations that I felt worked better for Snow's character in this, as explained in the annotations below.**

**NOTICE, PLEASE READ: I found that this chapter grew exceptionally long which the original beginning it had with Snow waking up (which was TBH mostly novelisation really, but it set up the scene). If you don't want to be lost, look back at the end of the previous chapter, where there is now an extra scene of Snow waking up.**

**So, if you can, forgive me for the last few months, and otherwise enjoy the Gollum chapter!**

**Chapter 15: Riddles in the Dark**

The creature spoke to itself throughout its, and unknowingly Snow's, journey, pausing occasionally as it strained to pull the heavy goblin along behind it. It had gotten a fair way ahead of the girl by the time she made her move to follow, but its noise echoed across the cave walls the whole time, leading her on toward its lair.

The tunnel came to no forks, no breaks leading to another way out. Just one, long tunnel that eventually opened into an enormous cavern. Very wide, with cragged rocks and stalactites lining the walls, floor and roof, Snow found herself on the shore of a great, underground lake. Cracks in the ceiling shone the cold hint of midday sunlight from high above across the lake, indicated just how long she'd slept, illuminating entire piles of discarded bones and carcasses, remnants of this creature's former meals. This did little to settle Snow's unease.

As for the creature itself, she spotted it, and the unconscious goblin, sat atop an outcrop in the middle of the lake, continually talking to itself as it picked up another rock.

Then, as Snow entered the gargantuan cave, this strange, little, VICIOUS creature, began to sing.

_~ "The cold hard lands,"  
~ "they bites our hands,"  
~ "they gnaws our feeeeeeeeets!"_

Not that she could call it a song; more like a set of unsettling rhymes, punctuated by an occasional WHACK as the creature smacked the goblin again and again with the rock. Snow crept into the cave, hiding her glowing sword from sight so the creature didn't spot her entering, moving to hide herself behind one of the large rocks on the shore.

_~ "The rocks and stones,"  
~ "they're like old bones,"  
~ "all bare of meeeeeeeeeat!"_

The girl crouched, back to the rock, sword in front of her at the ready. Carefully, she peaked out around the rock to keep an eye on the creature. It was indeed hitting the goblin with a rock. It seemed to be trying to skin it.

_~ "But stream and pool,"  
~ "is nice and cool,"  
~ "So nice for feeeeeeeeets!"_

_~ "And now we wish-" _**[1]**

The goblin suddenly struggled again, breaking the creature from its song. In retaliation, the creature made two more whacks to its skull, and a sickening _crack_ sent Snow hiding back behind the rock again.

Suddenly, her elven blade's light flickered and died, signalling the end of that goblin. Snow breathed heavily with the realisation, for even though she'd seen a number of other creatures die along her journey so far, and even though she KNEW that creature was going to eat the goblin, the sudden end of that goblin by the hand of the creature was something unsettling to no end.

That goblin had been dangerous, nearly killed her just recently. And this creature had just bludgeoned it to death with a rock.

A new ripple of fear washed over her. And she had every right to be scared.

Gulping, she took another look out from behind the rock to where the creature stood with the goblin.

Only, there was no creature. It had vanished, leaving only the broken goblin carcass lying in the weak sunlight upon the outcropping. Snow's eyes widened, and she turned left and right, taking glances all around the cave for any sign of the creature.

Unfortunately, and unbeknownst to the girl, the creature had spotted her face when it had finished off the goblin, and kept looking long enough to see her vanish once more behind the rock. Movement meant life. Life meant food.

Snow could never hear a thing as the creature floated silently across the lake on its bone-raft, hands gently placed on the surface to push it forward, toward where the moving thing hid.

The cave was so silent, Snow could hear her own heavy breathing as she sat and watched, waiting for the creature to make its reappearance.

Then a second set of raspy breaths joined hers. Not from the lake. Not from the shore.

But from the rocks above her back!

She slowly turned her head, and true enough, she found herself staring into the large, blue eyes of the creature of the caves.

The creature dropped from the rock and landed in front of the cowering Snow, the sunlight reflecting off the water to give her a much better look at the creature's face.

Its face was almost human, much more so than the now-deceased goblin, its enormous eyes centred with blue irises, on either side of a human nose, and with a mouth with only a few glinting, yellow points. Those eyes grew with wonder, and it smiled maliciously at the terrified girl in front of it.

"Bless us and splash us, Precious!" It exclaimed approvingly. "THAT'S a meaty mouthful!"

With an evil smirk, the creature advanced, and Snow instinctively flicked her sword up so the point poked gently into its neck. The creature reacted stopped suddenly, and startled glanced down at the metal blade, before leaning back fearfully. Snow advanced the blade forward, forcing the creature to move back with it.

"S-stay back!" she gasped. "P-please!"

Once she had enough room, Snow finally stood up and backed away from both the rock and the creature, never pointing her sword away.

The creature backed away into a much smaller boulder, staring in surprise at the weapon, but thankfully not making any move to grab a stone and attack. With it no longer threatening, Snow herself stopped backing away, leaving a fair gap between the creature and her, breathing room for both of them. The creature slipped to the side and crawled away from Snow, who turned to keep the sword pointed at it as it circled her.

"It's got an elfish blade, but it's not an elfs." It muttered to itself. "Not an elfs, no!"

It stopped moving to sit, almost cat-like, beside another boulder and turned and gazed up at her, perplexed.

"What is it, Precious?" the creature wondered. "W-what is it?"

Then it stopped talking, just stared at her, a confused expression on its face. Snow didn't make a noise, just stared at it in fear, wondering exactly the same thing about IT. It had pointed ears like an elf or a hobbit, yet it seemed to have been down here for so long, that it almost had the look of a goblin. What was it?

Then, after a moment, the creature spoke again.

"Does it speaks, Precious?" it questioned, tilting its head with an intrigued expression. "Or does it not understands us?"

It was only then that Snow realised it was talking TO her, not about her to itself.

Then why did it keep saying "Precious"?

"O-oh, my name?" She breathed a shaky laugh before sobering and answering: "M-my name… is Snow White."

The creature raised an eyebrow, and looked away in confusion.

"Snow White?" it wondered. "What an odd namses are those?"

Well, this was going well so far. It HAD threatened to eat her, like she thought it would, but it hadn't made any move to attack her once she'd pointed the sword at it. It was fairly smart, smarter than any animal in the caves, so maybe it could point her the way out.

"An-and yours?" She asked.

"Nameses?"

The creature burst out laughing. Not much of a laugh, more of a croak really, but still a laugh none-the-less. Enough to bring the hint of a smile to Snow's lips.

"We? We do not has nameses, Precious!" It chuckled. "No! We has not has names in times we can remember! Gollum, gollum!" It coughed again.

"R-right." She breathed shakily. "C-can I call you Gollum?" **[2]**

The creature looked up at her, suddenly furious. She shrunk back slightly.

"Makes things simpler?"

It regarded her for a moment in anger. Then…

"Fine." It looked away from her, grumpily.

She breathed out in relief. This could still work out.

Gollum's intrigued smile came back, and it gazed up at her in interest.

"Tell us," it asked her. ", what is a Whites, Precious?"

An odd way of phrasing it, but a question of what race she hailed from could not be mistaken. She briefly contemplated lying to it, but then again, it wasn't exactly going to betray her to the orcs, was it?

"I-I'm a Dúnedain maid, f-from Shireland." She replied.

Gollum's eyes lit up in surprise, and it let out a joyous exclamation.

"We like goblinses, batses and fishes," It smiled, ", but we hasen't tried D… uh… Doo-nee-dainses, before!"

Not good.

Its wicked grin returned, and Gollum began creeping towards Snow again. The girl inched back.

"Is it soft?" it leered, and licked its lips. "Is it juicy?"

"N-no no!"

Snow waved her sword back and forth, forcing the creature Gollum to back off, glaring back and forth at the offending blade. She pointed it back at it, and Gollum advanced again, but with a few waves of the blade and lurching forward, the creature moved backward again.

"I-I don't want to hurt you," she assured, though fearfully, "But I will use this if I have to!"

Gollum screeched, startling her. The blade wavered, and Gollum backed again, suddenly taking more interest in the weapon.

"L-look!" she exclaimed, "I just want to know how to get out!"

"Out?"

"Out of the caves! Out of the tunnels! Out f-from under the mountains!"

"Why?" Gollum sneered as it creeped behind the boulder. "Is it lost?"

Snow sighed. This was getting worse and worse by the second.

"Yes!" She conceded. "And I'd like to get un-lost, as soon as possible!"

Suddenly the creature smiled again, but not the malicious leering it had a moment ago. It smiled bright and cheerful, pleased it could be helpful.

"Ooh! We knows!" it shouted. "We knows safe paths for maidses! Safe paths in the dark!"

It turned and pointed out behind Snow toward a new tunnel, different from the way they'd come in. Snow took a brief moment to look back at it. It was dark, but it could potentially be her way back to the dwarves.

"Shut up!" Gollum suddenly croaked, its face darkening, before hiding behind the boulder.

Snow furrowed her eyebrows, confused.

"I didn't say anything." She said.

"Wasn't talking to you!" The creature looked out to glare grumpily at her before hiding again.

"Well, yes, we… we WAS, precious, we was!" it spoke again, in the more pleasant tone it had before.

Snow shook her head slightly at this creature. First it tries to eat her, then it gets acquainted with her, then it tries to eat her again, and now it seems to be arguing with itself. Either it was not quite right in the head, or it was not as intelligent a creature as she thought. It was acting like a child. It certainly didn't LOOK like a child.

"Okay," she spoke. "I-I don't know what you're playing at, but-"

"PLAY!?"

Snow started, and watched as Gollum leapt up on top of the boulder, the pleasant smile on its face, looking up at her and gasping excitedly.

"Oh, we LOVE to play games, doesn't we, Precious!?" It exclaimed. "Does IT like games? Does it? Does it? Does it like to play?"

It laughed in its eagerness, and Snow couldn't help but play along. A child's mind, most definitely.

"M-maybe?" she responded, timidly. She shrugged. "I-I mean, I… I haven't played in years, b-but… if you want?"

Gollum held up its hand to speak first, then eagerly began to tell a riddle.

_"__What has roots as nobody sees,"  
__"__Is taller than trees,"  
"Up, up, up it goes,"  
"And yet never grows?"_

It stared at her, smiling, waiting for an answer.

Snow thought for a moment, before recognising the riddle. She smiled slightly in nostalgia. Back before the Queen had put her to work, this had been one of her favourite hymns to tell.

"A mountain."

Gollum laughed with joy. It was most certainly enjoying this.

"Yes, yes, yes!" it confirmed between laughs.

It sighed in enjoyment.

"Oh, let's have another one, eh?" it proposed, gesturing to her. "Your turn! Do it! Do it for us! Ask us!"

Then Gollum changed again. Its face contorted, its pupils shrank, and it let out an angry "No!".

"No more riddles!" it growled, leaping off the boulder and crawling away from it and, thankfully, Snow.

The girl stepped out of its path and around the boulder, letting the seething creature wander away, muttering. But she kept her eyes on it, sword at the ready as she could hear every word it said.

"Finish her off. Finish her now! Gollum, gollum!"

Gollum roared and ran at her with malice, but she put a hand up in protest, an idea coming to mind.

"No! No. No." she cried, smiling calmly. "I-I want to play!"

Gollum stopped in its tracks, surprised.

Gollum was in many ways like a child. Brash, always wanting something, but most important of all, loving to play games. And while she hadn't dealt with children before, as the Queen had never had them, Snow had seen many parents and aunts and uncles around the village talking to young children, speaking softly, encouraging and playing with them. And in the situation, she hoped she could do the same.

If she wanted to get out, she needed to survive. And coaxing the Playful Gollum into a game was her only chance at doing so.

"I want to play." She cooed. "I can see… you are… VERY… good at this."

Gollum glared down and away, then looked back up at her, the excited, playful Gollum coming back in the creatures eyes. He smiled, much like a child would at praise.

Snow knelt beside the boulder, and spoke softly to the creature.

"So, how about we… play a game of riddles?" she asked him. "Yes? J-just you and me?"

Gollum gasped in excitement and scuttled to kneel on the other side of the boulder, looking away as if to see if anyone nearby could hear, not that there were any this deep in the caves.

"Just, just us?"

"Yes." She smiled. "Yes, and if I win, could you show me the way out?"

"Oh! Oh yes!" Gollum agreed.

Then he glared and looked away.

"And if it loses?" it asked itself, not entirely quietly. "What then?"

"Well, if it loses, Precious, than we EATS it!"

Snow gulped. Playful Gollum smiled from around the boulder.

"If White loses, we eats it whole." He declared.

"Uhh…"

Not a pleasant thought. Not a pleasant way to go, either. She would have far preferred some other… well, actually, she would really rather not be killed at all.

But then, this was only one possible ending to the game. It was Playful Gollum's suggestion, and she'd really like to keep him here. Angry Gollum wouldn't help her, otherwise.

She only had to win. She would have to be careful, and clever, but she could get out of this cave alive. **[3]**

"Fair enough." She nodded.

And so Snow White stood up and sheathed her sword, the blade no longer useful to her in this situation.

A game of riddles was an interesting game, most usually played by two. One had to tell a riddle to the other, and the other had to remember the answer if they knew it, or guess from the clues. If they guessed correctly in under twenty seconds, or had the right answer when their time was up, it was their turn to tell a riddle. If they lost a riddle, they were out. In Snow's case, this would be literal.

Snow turned to the smiling Gollum, only for him to suggest that SHE go first. Gollum rested his chin on the boulder, watching her in anticipation as she lifted her head up to think. She had loved riddles as a child, and had heard many from her father. It took her barely a moment to remember one of her favourites, and she turned back to Gollum to tell it.

_"__Thirty white horses on a red hill."  
__"__First they stamp, then they champ,"  
"And then they stand still."_

Gollum frowned as he listened to the clues. Then, when she finished, he strained in concentration as he tried to figure out the answer. Occasionally he had an idea, and he would smile in excitement, before frowning again in thought. Eventually, he looked up at her again curiously.

"Teeff?"

Snow's smile dropped. That was all the answer he needed.

"TEEFF!" Gollum shouted and laughed in excitement, crying, "Oh, yes, my Precious! But we-"

"WE only have… nine!"

Malicious Gollum glared up at her, gaping, baring its nine yellow points up at her.

Not pleasant, especially considering her fate if she lost.

"Our turn."

Snow nodded, and Angry Gollum closed its mouth, leering up at her as it started crawling around the boulder, never taking its eyes off of her. Snow wandered around the other way, keeping opposite of the hungry creature as it riddled her.

_"__Voiceless, it cries,"  
__"__Wingless, it flutters,"  
"Toothless, it bites,"  
"Mouthless, it mutters."_

On the last line it stopped crawling around the boulder, and looked up at Snow for an answer.

"Just a minute." She murmured, and turned away to stare across the lake in thought.

"Ooh! OOH!" Playful Gollum cried. "We knows! WE KNOWS!"

"SHUT UP!"

Snow ignored its (their?) antics as she stepped over to the edge of the rocky shore of the lake. She knew this was one she had heard before, but it was one so obscure she had never really liked it. That would not help her now. And so she gazed across the lake, thinking through the clues as she watched the ripples roll across the surface.

Ripples powered by the draft flowing through the crack in the roof.

Snow smiled.

"Wind."

She turned her back to the lake, facing Gollum.

"The answer is the wind." She told it. "No mouth, teeth or voice, yet it still cries into the air and bites at your skin."

Angry Gollum was not pleased. It crawled out from behind the boulder, growling in frustration and, to Snow's unease, skulking towards her.

"Very clever, maidses…" it hissed. "VERY clever…"

It looked angry enough to back up on their deal, and it was moving towards her…

Snow could have drawn her sword at it to keep it at bay, but if she wanted out of here she needed the Playful Gollum, and she didn't think threatening the creature would get him to come out any time soon.

So instead, she held out her hand in protest and spoke the first riddle that came to her head:

_"__A box without hinges, key or lid,"  
__"__Yet golden treasure inside is hid."_

It was not a very hard one to guess, and many a child would find this easy, but she had had no time to think of a more difficult one with Angry Gollum advancing.

Luckily her riddle had brought back the Playful Gollum, and he turned away, mulling over the various clues.

Yet Gollum seemed to have trouble with this one. One, two, three seconds went by, and he still hadn't figured it out.

"Box? No lid… nor key?" he muttered to himself.

"Well?" she asked, confused as to why he was still going over the clues.

Angry Gollum turned and called her "Nasty", before facing away again.

Snow sighed. She should have known. One who had lived underground away from the trees where birds made their nests would have trouble with this.

Still, this potentially gave her an advantage. And if she could just wait out twenty seconds…

"Box? Key?"

But then, what if he HAD seen eggs before? Fish lay eggs…

Seven…Eight…Nine…

"Do you give up?"

A low cheat, but she needed to keep its mind off the answer.

"Give us a chance, Precious!" he shouted, stressed. "Give us a chance!"

Fifteen…Sixteen…

Gollum moaned as he strained his mind. He slapped the ground and grunted, trying to force some kind of thought to surface.

"Ooooheeeeeeeeea! Eeeeeeeggggssssshh!"

Eighteen…Nineteen…

Gollum gasped.

"EGGSES!"

Snow sighed. He'd won again.

"Eggses!" Gollum laughed again. "Wet, crunchy little eggses!"

Gollum turned his laughing face back to her, Snow barely faked a smile and played along with the creature as he continued to signify his mirth.

"Silly fishes and their wet batches of soft, crunchy eggses!" he cried with glee. "Silly fishes should really be more careful!"

A few bats squeaked somewhere else in the cave, but Snow ignored them. So Gollum knew about fish eggs, but he didn't seem to know about the world above. That was a good thing, for it meant that all she needed to do would be to think of a riddle about trees or something for her next turn.

A scuttling from ahead drew her attention to Gollum, only to find him vanishing into the rocks.

"Hey!" she called. "Where are you going!?"

A breathy laugh sounded, but Snow was unable to pinpoint its origin as it sounded from everywhere. From every wall, rock, and ripple, Gollum's voice echoed, and Snow's heart sank in fear again as she realised it was hunting her. Slowly, she drew her sword from its scabbard as Malicious Gollum spoke again.

"We have one for you:" it said, and Snow twirled around again.

_"__All things it devours,"  
__"__birds, beasts, trees, flowers,"  
"gnaws iron, bites at steel,"  
"grinds hard stones to meal,"_

"Answer us." It finished.

"Right." She muttered, and began to mull the lines over in her head.

It was a riddle she could not place. No matter how many times she muttered the lyrics over and over again, she couldn't place them. This was not one she was told by her father. She would have to work it out from the clues.

Seventeen…Sixteen…

"All things it devours…" she recited to herself.

Impossible, for no creature could possibly eat everything…

Thirteen…Twelve…

"Birds… bees… beasts? Trees and flowers…"

Unless it was not a creature, like rock-fire… **[4]**

"Is it tasty?" Gollum mocked from somewhere. "Is it SCRUUUUUUMCIOUS!?"

'_Shut up!_'

Eight…Seven…

"Gnaws iron… bites steel…"

'_No, rock-fire doesn't gnaw away at iron._' She realised. '_It melts it completely._'

'_What could possibly eat away at steel over-_'

"Is it crunchable?"

Snow started from her thoughts as Gollum grabbed at her throat from a nearby large rock, and she screamed slightly as she leapt out of its reach and pointed her sword in the direction of its malicious grin.

"Let me think!" she shouted at the creature. "Let me think!"

She realised that Gollum had made her lose count, but the creature made no more moves to disrupt her again, just muttered to itself and grinned victoriously as Snow lowered her eyes to the rocky ground and, never lowering the blade, set her mind back to the final clue to the riddle:

"Grinds hard stones to meal…"

Stones grind away on riverbeds, she knew that. But it takes years and years to turn them into sand, dirt and dust…

She titled her head in interest to the thought. **[4]**

Iron rusts, steel degrades, and all living things have an end. It is all a matter of…

"Time's up." Gollum told her.

And that is when it clicked.

"Time…" she realised, looking up at Gollum and smiling in awe at the concept the riddle posed. "The answer is time!"

Gollum looked on at her with a shocked expression. Time was up! She should not have gotten that! Not fair!

Gollum growled in frustration at losing yet another chance of getting its meal, and Snow cleared her throat and added:

"W-well, I-I suppose it-it isn't so obscure an answer when you think about-"

"Silence, White!"

She shut up and nodded, looking down and decidedly NOT smiling at the fascinating riddle.

Angry Gollum glared at her, its potential meal, and decided to bring this to a close.

"Last riddle." it snarled. "Last chance."

Snow looked up to nod again, and couldn't help to notice the creature's not-so-subtle picking up of a large, jagged stone behind it, one which she had no doubt was intended to do her harm. This creature had decided that whoever won this riddle won the game, and she was no doubt not meant to win.

She gulped, and nodded at Gollum before looking down to think.

She needed something it could not understand, something so far beyond its knowledge that it could not possibly know the answer. That shouldn't be too hard; Gollum lived down here in the caves, and had done so for some time. All of its riddles were based on the tunnels and caverns and things down here. His answer to the eggs one he made in reference to fish eggs. All she had to do was think of a riddle of the outside world, of something that Gollum couldn't possibly remember even if it had ever been outside, and she could win her escape.

She turned and looked out across the water of the lake as she worked her mind, lowering her sword to her side and resting her left hand on one of her belt-pockets—

Something heavy shifted inside the pocket at her touch. She frowned, confused. The only items she had stored inside those pockets that could make such movement were a few old coins and rat's teeth, and they were clinking away on the other side of her belt. So what could be in THIS pocket to make so much noise?

'_What have I got in my pocket?_' she wondered. **[5]**

But Gollum drew her attention before she could investigate.

"Ask us." The creature asked with a smile, though Snow wasn't entirely convinced Playful Gollum was there.

"ASK US!" Angry Gollum yelled.

"Alright! Alright!" she yelled to silence it.

And so she turned back to the lake and searched her mind to find a riddle of which the creature couldn't understand. Of the sunlight, of the grass, of the flowers in the meadows…

She exhaled at the tension; for this would be her last chance.

She turned on the spot and looked up at Gollum, and then spoke her riddle:

_"__An eye in a blue face,"  
__"__saw an eye in a green face."  
"'That eye is like this eye',"  
"said the first eye,"  
"', but in a low place,"  
"'not in a high place.'"_ **[5]**

Playful Gollum returned in full force, absently playing with the stone in his hand as he made interesting expressions, working to figure out the answer. Snow stood, expressionless, and watched him.

One…Two…Three…

Gollum frowned, his face scrunched as he tapped the stone's point against the rock under his feet. His mind was more than certainly trying to work on the clues like he had before with the eggs one, for he could not possibly have heard this one before, only this time his mind would be clouding for this being his last chance…

Seven…Eight…Nine…

Snow watched on in anticipation, barely breathing as she counted down the seconds. Gollum shouldn't know the answer, or at least she hoped not. In the world above, in the peaceful villages, one might know or be able to guess this, but for a creature that had been underground for who-knew-long…

Twelve…Thirteen…Fourteen…

Gollum began to get desperate, whacking his fists to his scrunched head as he tried to force his mind to come up with SOMETHING even VAGUELY close to the answer. He cried and screamed in distress and hit the rock the stood on a number of times as he tried and tried to think of something…

Eighteen…Nineteen…Twenty.

But it was all for naught as Snow finished her countdown.

"Time's up." She told the creature. "Do you have an answer?"

"Fish in pool!" Gollum cried in a last ditch attempt. "Glow-worms in cavern see fish in pool!"

Snow let out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

"Wrong answer." She breathed, triumphant.

"Not fair!" the formerly Playful, child-like Gollum moaned, upset. "It's not fair! White cheated!"

Gollum threw the stone to the rocky shore below him in anger. Snow flinched and watched where the stone tumbled before eyeing Gollum warily. The creature was a REALLY sore loser.

She should have known that Playful Gollum would be upset if he lost. The creature was indeed like one of the small children from the village, and she had seen when she had visited, some of them act very similarly upon losing a game.

Then again, the only way to avoid Gollum throwing a paddy would've been to have lost the game herself, and that hadn't been an option.

She held up her empty hand to calm him down.

"L-look," she told him. "I didn't cheat. I played perfectly by the rules-"

"White says our answer's wrong, Precious!" Malicious Gollum growled, pointing angrily at her.

"W-well it is!" she said. "That's not the answer to the riddle! It's not the one that I had in mind, so it's wrong."

Finding no flaw with her reasoning, Childish Gollum re-emerged and tumbled, curling up onto his side on top of the rock, and Snow watched him convulse as he sobbed away. She looked away and stepped back slightly, willing to give him a bit of space to calm down.

And after a few minutes the creature DID stop sobbing, and just ley there, upset. Snow felt this was the right time to remind them of their deal.

"So, umm…" she began, pausing. "Now that I've… won the game… will you please show me the way back to the goblin-town?"

Gollum sobbed again.

"Why should we, Precious!?" he cried, choking. "Gollum, gollum!"

Snow paused again before answering.

"Well… you promised."

Gollum stopped crying and began to stand up again on the rock, but when he turned to her she realised Angry Gollum was in control.

"Did we say so, Precious?" it hissed, glaring back down at her. "DID we say so?"

"W-well yes."

Gollum growled and turned away again, looking pointedly away from her. She sighed.

"L-listen, I need your help to get out of here." She breathed, putting on a brave face. "I need to know the way back to the goblin-town to find my friends, but you are the only one down here who knows the way. Just show me the way to get out of here, you can go back to y-your… goblin… and I'll be on my way."

Gollum turned once more, gazing at her thoughtfully. She almost feared what Malicious Gollum could be thinking, staring at her like that. The creature was hungry, she knew that, AND it wanted to eat HER. She tightened her grip on her sword.

Then Gollum stirred suddenly, startling Snow, and jump up onto its feet.

"All right, White!"

Snow calmed as Playful Gollum returned. The creature lit up a non-threatening smile at her as he jumped off of the rock and onto the ground in front of her.

"White won, so we shows it the way out!" he decided. "Yes, the safe way back to un-safe Goblintown we go!"

Then Gollum scuttled away, and Snow sighed in relief. He was letting her live! AND he was leading her back to the goblins! And hopefully the dwarves would still be alive.

It was almost funny how it was HER who would be rescuing THEM.

Now she and Kili would be even. IF he was still alive. She may not have liked him, but she still wouldn't wish that upon him. That would be a bit harsh.

"This way, White!" Gollum snapped her from her thoughts.

She nodded and followed him to the hole in the cavern-wall he'd mentioned before, sheathing her sword as she did. Gollum waited until she'd caught up, and then led her on into the dark, apparently safe, tunnel.

A few moments in, Gollum turned to her in interest.

"What was answer to White'ses riddle?" he asked her.

Snow looked down to the child-like cave-creature and made a small smile.

"The sun shining upon daises in the meadows." She answered. "It's an old one from where I come from."

And so Gollum, the Peaceful, non-violent Gollum Snow preferred, led Snow up the tunnel, up toward the town of the goblins, and hopefully, the dwarves.

* * *

**[1] So I decided to use lyrics from the book of ****The Two Towers****(found on the LOTR wiki) instead of ****An Unexpected Journey****, for the sole reason that they make more sense.**

**[2] They never named Gollum in the movie, and I didn't really want to keep calling it and him "the creature" all chapter.**

**[3] Careful and clever. Those lines sound familiar? Hint, hint!**

**[4] In LotR, everyone refers to the magma inside Mount Doom as "fire". Since there's already a substance called fire in the world, I thought I'd make it more obvious as to which one I was talking about.  
Also, Snow is smarter than Bilbo, and surprisingly stronger-willed, so I would've thought she'd be a bit more successful in guessing the riddle, hence the working-out she does in the scene.**

**[5] So, I decided to play this slightly differently to the movie. I thought that if Snow had spoken aloud about what's in her pocket to Gollum, she would've made sure to be fair and think of a proper riddle anyway. In the end I just felt that writing the story differently worked better.  
The riddle is from ****The Hobbit****book, in the same scene in the caves, and I thought that Gollum shouldn't really remember something like that.**

**So, a nice LONG chapter to make up for my absence! And one I've been looking forward to for about a year now!**

**This is where the story diverges a bit. It'll be following along the lines of the Dwarves' escape, only this time Snow and Gollum will be along for the ride, at least until Gollum discovers what exactly is in Snow's pocket!**

**Next Time: Chapter 16: Rescue of the Dwarves**


	17. Chapter 16: Rescue of the Dwarves

**EDIT 17/03/16: Just so you know, I'm still alive, I've been slacking, and I've been busy, but I'm back and trying to get back into the writing stick. I'm focusing on BHG first, but the next chapter of Snow White will be up within the next few weeks.**

**REVIEW REPLIES:**

**No1inparticular:  
Wow! I really don't have the words! I'm chuffed! Thanks!  
*basks in the applause*  
Thanks for reading and enjoying my version of the character of Snow White! I hope I can keep you impressed with this story and the later stories I plan to write!**

**SharKohen:  
Well, how Gollum discovers the ring is what we're here to find out!**

**Toby7400:  
Yes, Gollum is a bit unpredictable, isn't he…  
Uhh, it. He. They?**

**AUTHOR'S INTRO:**

**Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!**

**Sorry I've been nearly a month. I had trouble working with the latest chapter of BHG, and then there was Christmas, and I just have been having trouble working on these. I need more sleep.**

**Anyway, I'm back with another chapter, and I'm hoping things will start to get faster from now on! No promises, because you know how THOSE turn out, but all the same.**

**Enjoy!**

**Chapter 16: Rescue of the Dwarves**

The caves were long, and dark, but Snow could tell they were steadily rising as she and the creature, Gollum, climbed through them towards what Gollum had called Goblintown. The stony ground, coarse against her leather boots, tumbled back slightly as she walked. She breathed slowly in and out as Gollum led the way, starting slightly as every here and there she saw bones of goblins and bats strewn about the place, some even with more of those large, rubbery mushrooms growing out of them. She blanched as she remembered those she had woken up in.

Gollum was angry. Gollum was happily leading the way. Gollum was upset that it hadn't gotten its meal. Gollum knew that leading White to the goblin-town presented an opportunity.

White had friends. Maybe these friends were tasty too. That is why Gollum led White back up. That is why he was happy. That is what he wanted.

Not that Snow knew, nor had she suspected it. But she was weary of Gollum all the same, for even though he was leading her without complaint, or perhaps BECAUSE of this, and because of what it and he had done to the goblin and threatened to do to her, she was still nervous of him.

And of the deadly goblins prowling in the caves above, where she was trying to get to.

How long they had walked those empty halls, Snow couldn't tell. An hour? Two? Either way, eventually the girl and the cave-creature found themselves heading towards the orange light at the end of the tunnels, signalling the start of the goblins' territory.

Gollum turned back and smiled, happy as a dog given praise, as he stopped outside the exit to the caves.

"See! See!" He cried happily, "We've leds it out!"

Snow was a bit more cautious than he, stopping and looking left and right at the entrance-way. To her surprise, Gollum had actually led her back to where she had fallen from, right to where the dwarves and her had fallen in the first place! Goblins were still nowhere to be found, and just to be sure, she looked up to check the higher walk-ways this time, to find that even THEY were empty of the cave-orcs.

Satisfied that they were alone, she stepped lightly out onto the rock-path, right ahead of the bridge, right where she had fought the now-dead goblin, some hours ago.

She breathed out a sigh of relief.

"Thank you, Gollum." She turned to the creature.

Angry Gollum growled at the name and turned away in disgust.

She sighed again. So long as it didn't attack her now, Angry Gollum was no longer so much of a problem.

Goblins WERE though, she drew her elf-blade, blue once again, and turned left to do what she had meant to do in the first place: follow the goblins who had taken the dwarves. She could only hope that the goblins hadn't done anything to them in the time she had been below.

"NO!"

But before she could take more than a few steps, Gollum yanked her back, sending her falling down to the rocky ground. She held up the sword in defence as the creature climbed over her, only to find Peaceful Gollum staring at her, worriedly.

"Not THAT way!" he pleaded. "Goblinses beat us, bite us, slash us! It will be taken, tortured and—

"-beaten in their filthy goblinses-tunnels!"

Angry Gollum growled before HE turned back to Snow, even as she lowered her sword.

"But the dwarves-"

"There is another way!" he told her. "A secret way. A safer way. A tunnel, leads to Great Goblin's throne! Takes them he did!"

"Really?"

He nodded, and she nodded back.

"Lead the way, Gollum."

Angry Gollum sneered before Peaceful Gollum climbed off of her to let her up. She did so, and straightened her lopsided belt, the heavy objects bumping around in their pockets. This reminded her of the strange rattling thing she'd found in there...

"This way, White!"

She shook her head and nodded as she followed Gollum back into the tunnel, even as they turned down another path towards where Gollum told her the dwarves had been taken.

But this time as they walked, Snow's mind drifted to something else. She felt her hand around the outside of her left-most pocket, curious as to the contents.

_'__What have I got in my pocket?'_ she wondered again.

* * *

Thorin's legs ached from standing still for so long. For hours and hours the Great Goblin had attempted to interrogate them, on what they knew of Snow's whereabouts, and of the wizard who had been seen with them earlier on the journey. Then he had given up, and sent for the goblins' instruments of torture, and death.

Another thing that hurt by now were his ears. The Goblin-King had a penchant for music, but the goblins were not known for their singing. His voice alone was torture for the dwarves, and added to the makeshift drums of the goblins, and their own 'voices', the sound was almost agonising to their ears.

But they had no choice but to put up with it. The goblins had taken their weapons, which now lay in a pile near the Goblin-King's throne, and they were surrounded by thousands of cave-goblins. They would be overwhelmed before any of the could make a move. Not only that, but they hadn't an inkling as to where the paths that led out to the east-side escapes from the mountains were, much less where east was in the first place.

So they could do nothing but struggle and wait, for something, Gandalf maybe, to FINALLY arrive to save them…

* * *

The first Snow heard of the Goblin-King was a noise like nails on a rock, echoing through the caves. She winced and grabbed at her ears in some attempt to stem the sound, but to no avail.

Peaceful Gollum whined.

"Curse them and crush them, Precious!" he groaned. "The Goblin still sings!"

Snow smiled sympathetically at the creature as she winced again at the noise, even as drums joined the horrible sound.

The upside of this was that it was a signpost; they were nearing the chamber of the Goblin-King. The orange torch-light soon followed, and the creature and the maid crept up to the opening in the tunnel and looked out over the gigantic cavern, far larger than Gollum's cave filled to the brim with goblins. She could see a massive goblin on a lone platform in the centre, and goblins carrying horrid-looking machines towards a point in front of him, where stood a number of straight-standing, substantially taller creatures—

"That's them!" she realised. "The dwarves."

Malicious Gollum looked with her, absently licking its lips, eyes widening at the no-less-than THIRTEEN adult, fully armoured dwarven warriors that stood captive of the goblins. Even one of them would be a tricky mouthful on their own.

But then, there was still White…

"They're going to kill them." Snow realised solemnly.

She turned her head and looked around the gargantuan cave, taking stock of the whole place. Below their hiding place, another one of the goblins' wooden ramps, surprisingly empty, ran along the wall of the cave, though it was a long way around, before it reached the path to the Goblin-King. The platform itself led around the throne to a bridge that tunnelled back into the caves, but that was even further away. Neither path would be avail to her, for she would be spotted before she reached the dwarves.

"We have to do something. We need to lure them away, or distract them, or…"

She trailed off as her eyes caught something odd. A flash of grey-blue in an orange cave, slowly climbing up the spokes of the Goblin-King's perch…

She knew that hat and staff anywhere.

Of course Gandalf would be coming to the rescue. It had been no doubt that Gandalf would have followed them, so Snow should have realised he'd be there to help.

"Or just wait for Gandalf." She muttered, more to herself than Gollum.

* * *

The Goblin-King's voice was a painful noise, a whine that not one of the dwarves could call 'singing' as he yelled to a tune, barely supplemented by the banging of the goblins' drums.

_~ "Bones will be shattered, necks will be wrung!"  
~ "You'll be beaten and battered, from racks you'll be hung!"  
~ "You will die down here and never be found,"  
~ "Down in the deep of Goblintown!"_

The dwarves struggled as they were jostled by their goblin captors, though none of them were observant as one of the goblins picked up Thorin's weapon, curiously. It grabbed the handle and pulled it…

Then jumped away and dropped the thing as if it had been burned by the magical blue light Orcrist emitted, and as it fell all orcs around fell back in horror, the Goblin-King himself included as he was startled from the end of his 'song'. He stumbled backward and shied into his throne, staring back at the fallen blue blade.

"I know that sword!" he exclaimed to his many goblins, as terrified as they. "It is the Goblin-cleaver!"

Goblins around started in fear, then those near the dwarves lashed out in anger, tossing the ropes they used to detain the dwarves as makeshift whips, punishing the already-tattered dwarves.

"The Biter! The blade that sliced a thousand necks!"

Then the Goblin-King turned on the dwarves too.

"Slash them for bearing such a monstrosity!" he shouted. "Beat them for beheading so many of our kind! Kill them! KILL THEM ALL!"

* * *

At this distance, Snow could barely see what was happening, but she could still hear the Goblin-King's booming voice, and could see as, all at once, every goblin in the cavern reacted with horror at the pure light of Thorin's elf-sword.

The dwarves struggled valiantly as the goblins converged, even managing to toss a few off the platform, but without their weapons, and outnumbered ten-to-one, the goblins quickly overwhelmed them, holding them to the wooden floor. Snow watched on, terrified, unable to do anything to help but watch and hope Gandalf reached them before—

"CUT OFF HIS HEAD!" The Great Goblin yelled.

And at a guess, Snow figured he meant Thorin. She could barely see from hers and Gollum's vantage point, but there was definitely a goblin standing over the dwarf prince with an orc-dagger held above him.

Snow was in no position to do anything, and she could barely watch as it was. She may have tried to run away, but the dwarves were still her friends.

Thankfully, that was when Gandalf thrust his staff into the stuffy air of the cavern and shouted.

A blue light shone from the tip, and all, goblins and dwarves alike were sent flying back. The machines of horror tumbled into the abyss with many a goblin, the Goblin-King was toppled, and Snow and Gollum themselves were tossed into the wall of the hidden tunnel, but the dwarves, flat against the woodwork, were nearly untouched.

When the light vanished, the goblins' torches, nearly extinguished by the gust, slowly faded back into existence to reveal the grey-blue robe, the pointy hat, and the wooden staff and elven blade of the Wizard of the West.

* * *

Gandalf looked upon the dwarves, all thirteen tossed and scattered in the pile of goblins and wood that lay strewn on the platform. The past two days since they had left Rivendell had not been kindly on them, for they were far more rugged and cut than they had been. Being captured by a hoard of cave-orcs had that kind of effect.

Glamdring shone blue as Orcrist in his right hand, held apart from his body, as was his staff, emitting his whole form emitting a mystic aura into the cavern. He breathed deeply as the orange light returned and the goblins and dwarves stirred, and they all looked up, the dwarves looking eyes on the wizard as they saw him there, even as he called to them to stand.

"Take up arms." He stressed. "Fight!"

The dwarves began to move, sluggishly at first, but as the goblins began to make their move, the dwarves struggled and grabbed for their weapons, strewn from the pile by Gandalf's blast.

"FIGHT!"

* * *

Snow and Gollum stumbled back to the entrance to the cavern. Snow watched, exhilarated, as the dwarves retrieved their weapons and, with Gandalf at their side, fought off the encroaching goblin-hoard. She could see the 'Great Goblin' cowering where he had fallen, staring up at the wizard in fear.

"He wields the Foe-hammer!" he exclaimed. "The Beater! Bright as daylight!"

The dwarves rushed the goblins with their newly-regained weapons, and the hoard charged back, the Goblin-King with them, though as the Great Goblin yelled and moved to swing his hideous staff (that Snow had only just noticed) at Thorin, a yell from Nori alerted him, and a single swing was enough for the mighty Orcrist to send the Goblin-King stumbling backward and off the side of the platform, taking his throne and part of the wooden floor with him.

As Snow watched in awe at the rising company of dwarves, Gollum looked on with ambivalence. The dwarves were DEFINITELY too nasty to be tasty meals.

With the Goblin-King out of the picture, and many a goblin carcass littering the woodwork, Gandalf called out to the company of dwarves to follow him, and Snow watched as the wizard led them around what was left of the throne, down the bridge and into the caves.

Snow let out a breath. The dwarves were… well, not _safe_, but they had escaped, and Gandalf was leading them out. That only left herself to worry about.

"Hide! Hide! We must hide!"

Snow turned to see the cave-creature staring, scared, back at her from further down the tunnel.

"Goblinses crawling the tunnels in search of dwarveses!" he pleaded. "It and us must hide!"

"No!" she said, stepping forward. "I need you to lead me out of the caves!"

"Out?" the creature asked, confused. "But we has leds it out!"

"No, I mean out of the mountains. Do you know the way east?"

"East?" He lit up. "East exits to goblinses-tunnels! Yes we does, Precious! Hidden tunnels out of the mountains!"

He beckoned her as he crawled forward.

"Follow us!" he called.

"Follow me…" the foreboding Malicious Gollum hissed as it turned away.

A shiver ran down Snow's spine, but she followed the creature all the same.

* * *

"QUICKLY!" Gandalf shouted as he led the thirteen dwarves through the caves and tunnels of Goblintown.

The wizard seemed to know his way around, so finding the way out wouldn't be an issue. The problem was the army of goblins, converging on all sides, hell-bent on making sure they never escaped the mountains alive.

It was all well that the dwarves had their weapons back.

The 'halls' of Goblintown were mostly wooden bridges and ramps, leading down from everywhere to the main 'road' the company ran along. Double, triple, quadruple-decker lanes ran along the cavern-walls carrying a hoard of goblins that outnumbered the dwarves one-thousand-to-one. All angry, all carrying torches and weapons, and all thirsty for dwarf-blood.

But as the goblin army converged, the dwarves and wizard hacked them apart, one-by-one, fourteen-by-fourteen, ploughing their way through the tunnels.

Many blocked their way, and many times the dwarves were forced to split up. Dwalin led one group to one of the lower lanes, headlong into one pack of goblins, one-hundred strong. Working together, his group swung their weapons at the ropes tying the railing of the platform to its spokes, and used it to knock goblins off the side, several at a time. The larger pack depleted, the dwarves pushed forward, keeping the ugly beasts at bay as they did.

On the lane above them, Gandalf swung his staff back and forth, knocking goblins aside, leading the way for the others to move. The lanes converged as they met a long bridge, the wizard still leading as the two groups became the company again, not splitting as they came to the other side.

Each dwarf had his own style of fighting, and not just depending on their own unique weapon. Balin's use of his dwarf broardsword was far different from Thorin's slashes and stabs with Orcrist. Nor did Bofur with his hammer or Oin and his pole have the same form.

But one thing common of all thirteen was their use of the unstable world of the goblins to their advantage.

"CUT THE ROPES!"

Ropes were the only thing holding an upper lane, upon which were a number of goblin-archers, upright. With the dwarves' weapons slicing them clean in two, the upper bridge fell back on its unsturdy legs, falling backward into the ropes of dwarves swinging their way from the other side of the cavern. The ropes caught on the falling platform, and swung full-circle around it, cutting off the goblins' chances of reaching the dwarves, and the archers and swingers alike fell into the abyss. The dwarves, unfazed, pressed on.

More archers swarmed headlong into the company's path, firing their arrows. Luckily for Kili, he was excellent at blocking them, having trained to do so of his own accord from a young age. But he knew he couldn't keep up the concentration required for long, so he reached back and grabbed a goblin-ladder, carful to let the arrows plunge into the wood, and ran at the goblin-archers with a grunt.

Together, he and his brother tipped the ladder over, catching goblins' heads in the holes between the rungs, and ran forward, backing up the goblin-traffic until they all fell into a gap where a bridge should be, where Dwalin and Gandalf waited on the other side. The brothers dropped the ladder to make a makeshift bridge and the dwarves ran across, and once they all were, a swing of Dwalin's axe sent the bridge, and any goblins that had gotten across it, into the chasm.

The company continued on, smashing and slashing goblins at every turn, until they reached another half-destroyed bridge in their path. Luckily this one was attached to ropes, to a lane high above and to the spokes at its start, and cutting THOSE let the thing swing away, spinning as it did, to the other side, where only Balin, Bofur, Kili and Ori had the time to jump off. The bridge swung back to the other side though, and once it did, goblin swarmed onto them again.

The bridge swung back, and this time, as the remaining members of the company disembarked, Fili cut the rope to let the swinging bridge fall into the caves, the goblins falling behind it.

The dwarves moved on, splitting up yet again. Bombur got stuck on a higher lane, and was quickly swarmed with goblins all over his fat frame. But he jumped off onto a lane beneath him, collapsing it and taking his goblins with it, allowing him to fall hard onto the rocky ledge at the end of the company's path, even as Gandalf reached him.

The wizard yelled, and smashed the tip of his staff into the rocky roof ahead. With a flash of light, a large, round boulder was dislodged, falling to the wizard's feet. Thorin in front, the dwarves pushed it, letting it roll as the ledge sloped down, crushing the goblins in its path all the way down until it ran off the end of the ledge, and the dwarves turned onto the next wooden platform to continue to make their way towards the way out, which was getting close.

The dwarves continued to slash and slice, beheading and disarming the goblins in their way (literally). The hoards and hoards continued to converge, nearly no end to the vastness of them, as the dwarves moved on. The dwarves were tired, from running, and fighting, from their wounds and the fact that they had barely slept, but they took solace as Gandalf informed them they were nearly out.

They were heading for a bridge, one near the east outskirts of Goblintown, which closed the gap between one wall of the caves and another. This other wall had yet more goblin roads, and tunnels that would lead down, and hopefully to the way out. This bridge was damaged, supposed to be three lanes high, but the lower two only crossed half the gap, the other half destroyed, leaving the rest of the structure unstable.

Nevertheless, this was their way out, and the dwarves, led by Gandalf, managed to reach it without any more surprises…

And that is when the Goblin-King smashed out of the woodwork in front of them, their escape route. He smirked evilly at them as the fourteen stopped in their tracks, allowing the hoard to converge on their rear, where the creatures stopped and jeered and watched as the company was confronted by the king.

"You really thought you could escape ME?" the Goblin King sneered.

* * *

The caves just went on, and on, and on, and Snow was starting to get turned around from all the twists and turns Gollum was making. She couldn't tell how long it had been since they had watched the dwarves escape, much less she could tell how long since she had tried to leave the company, but she knew it had already been some time, and Gollum had been slowly speeding up. By now she was running, and she had yet to see any sign of their being close, though she did not know what signs to look for. Not that she could've seen those signs anyway, the goblins' torch-light all but faded away, and her sheathed sword dark once more.

For all she knew, Gollum could be leading her DEEPER.

"How much further?" she asked the creature.

The creature hissed, and she knew she was in trouble when she realised it was Malicious Gollum.

"Not far, White!" it sneered, "Not far at all!"

Snow was not convinced, but she sighed, and kept going. She could only hope there would be some way out of this. Out of the caves, and the situation she was realising she was falling into.

Finally she slowed, breathless, stopped running and lent her elbow on the cave wall. In and out she heaved, even though the only air she had was stale and dusty. She needed to stop, at least for a moment, for the cave-creature's antic were tiring her out. Maybe that was its plan. Run her around the caves, bake her too tired to fight back, then make its move. Whether or not that was the case, it was most certainly NOT leading her out.

Her other hand she rested on her belt-pocket. The one with the strange object she had yet to identify. Curious, she reached down with her fingers to fiddle with the pocket's button…

"Hurry up, White!"

A startled look-up brought her eyes to Gollum, the creature impatiently watching from the next corner in the tunnel.

"White wants the way out, and we leads it!" it grumbled. "Hurry, White, hurry!"

She sighed, attempting to draw back her strength. It didn't work very well. But she stood up anyway and moved to keep going. Maybe she'd find a fork in the cave she could run into to escape…

But in the dark of the caves, as she moved to step forward, her golden boot snagged on an up-sticking rock in the cave-floor, and she found herself tumbling to the ground.

At that same moment, her subconscious fingers pulled open her belt-pocket.

She crashed to the rocks, her already-injured arms scraping against the coarse sand and stones. She suddenly wished whoever tailored this dress had had the thought to give it sleeves.

Slowly, she reached her hands under her, pressing the ground to push herself back up, and lifted her eyes to look at the creature. Only her eyes caught something else, for lying on the ground ahead of her was an object barely glinting out of the dark. It was that ring. The ring she had absent-mindedly put in her pocket. The one she had found in the cave after it had fallen out of…

Oh.

She slowly drew her eyes up to Gollum, and found the creature staring at the ring in surprise.

"My precious?" it breathed. "My ring I founds on my birthday, brought by nasty goblinses?"

Snow gingerly pushed herself onto her knees, not taking her wary eyes off of the cave-creature as it mumbled on about its ring. Carefully, she reached forward and picked up the ring, holding it in her fingers.

That was a mistake.

Gollum's shocked eyes drifted up to meet hers. She held out the ring for him. After all, why would SHE want it? It was just a ring, was it not?

Gollum was surprised to find its ring suddenly appearing on the ground in front of it. At first it thought it must have fallen out of its pocketses. But then White grabbed it, and its eyes found the maidses open pocket, sprung open as it fell.

"White had the precious in its pocketses?"

"Y-you can have it back, if you want it." Snow offered hastily, already quite scared of how the creature was reacting.

Gollum stared at the girl for a moment longer, and Snow watched as something clicked in its head.

Gollum was shocked. Then it was angry.

"Stole it…"

Snow's eyes widened in surprise.

"What?"

"It STOLE it!?" Gollum growled, almost distraught with anger.

"N-no! I didn't!" Snow protested. "It fell out of your pocket in the caves! I meant to leave it there!"

Malicious Gollum was now angry, and the last time that happened it was intent on eating her.

"I didn't mean to put it in my pocket!"

She began to inch back on her knees, hands up in protest, still holding the ring.

"I'm sorry!"

Then Gollum let out a screech of a yell, and grabbed a nearby stone.

"IT STOLE IT!" It screamed, and launched the rock heavily at Snow.

She stumbled back, tripping over her knees, and the flying rock hit the wall, barely missing her head. But Gollum was quick to make its next move, and Snow forced herself to her feet and ran back the way they'd come.

Angry Gollum was after her, all because of one, plain, ring.

* * *

**So yeah, I stole some of Gollum's lines from TLotR for this, just a few. They just flittered in.**

**I had to be a bit careful here not to accidentally write Snow's character as Rey from the new Star Wars. Though, I'd like to see Daisy Ridley (Rey's actress) play a live-action version of Snow, 'cause I think she'd be the perfect candidate for the role!**

**I need to talk about Gollum. Basically, my idea for Gollum is that he's just a normal river-hobbit who wandered off into the caves and started living off rocks, and the ring one day ended up there after some traveller fell into the goblins' trap. A goblin had it, Gollum killed the goblin, and took the ring for himself. Simple, less clouded in mythos. Let's me write in my own super-plot and bad guy, as-it-were, so I don't have to use Sauron.**

**The scene with the dwarves being chased through Goblintown is all novelisation, I know, I'm sorry, and I wasn't planning to put it there, but halfway through writing the chapter I decided there needed to be some scenes with the dwarves added in there to space out Snow's story a bit.**

**Not the biggest fan of my writing for this chapter, but then, I WAS tired, and annoyed with my mum. Don't ask.**

**I'll try to get back to you soon with chapter 17, but it's gonna be tricky, cause of BHG, and a number of things happening in my life. ****Still, I hope you enjoyed, and are looking forward to the next one!**

**Next time: Chapter 17: To Be an Adventuress**


	18. Chapter 17: To Be an Adventuress

**AUTHOR'S INTRO:**

**Hello Guys and Gals! It has been a while since I wrote for this! A year in fact! I am truly sorry for the hiatus, and I have no excuse that would satisfy even me.**

**But I'm back, and I have a new chapter! As the title suggests, as does the place in the story, this is where Snow truly begins to become something amazing.**

**Since it's been so long, I would advise you to start from the beginning and read the first sixteen chapters again, just to get back up-to-speed. Some of the things mentioned in chapter 1 start to come full circle here, so it is vital that you go back and refresh your memory.**

**Done that? Great!**

**Then join me in returning to the world of Middle Earth, at a time when the young D****ú****nedain princess of Shireland changes from a scullery maid into an adventuress…**

**Chapter 17: To Be an Adventuress**

Lost in the dark. That is where Snow White found herself.

Gollum had chased her back into the tunnels. Away from the torch-light of Goblintown, Snow had been forced to feel her way round the nearly pitch-black caves, stumbled over stones and gravel, the sound of the furious creature's own scampering not far behind. Fear was set in her bones. She was doomed, she thought, to this scared existence of running in this endless dark cave, and she dared not look back for any sign of the creature that wanted to kill her and eat her.

And all for of one, stupid, ring.

Snow's mind could not help but waver, torn between navigating the tunnels, and the golden ring in her hand. Gollum wanted this thing so bad, and it was willing to kill her to get it. She should just drop it, return it. What was the point of keeping a ring? She had no need of it. If it weren't for its anger, she would have just given it back to Gollum the moment he noticed it.

But something stopped her from dropping the infernal thing. A strange feeling prevented her from simply opening her hand, and letting it fall. Not some fear of losing it, as it would be in the dark. Nor even jealousy, the idea that the creature Gollum would have this pretty thing. No. She could not place this feeling, that the ring might be something special, and important…

Light ahead! Snow's unused eyes snapped forward, locking onto the pale blue glinting off of the rocks ahead? Could it be sunlight? Had she stumbled upon the exit?

But as she came closer, she realised that the place was familiar. She'd been there before.

She came to a stop at the crossing of two tunnels, and spotted the giant, rubbery mushrooms she had woken up in perhaps an hour ago. The light, shining from Gollum's cavern, still lit up the place just enough to see. Her heart sank as she realised she was nowhere near the way out. In fact, she couldn't have been further from it.

In a hurry, she rushed down the tunnel, opposite Gollum's cave. But all she found, as she followed the tunnel, was a dead end. The rock walls, weakened here, had collapsed in on themselves, the roof crushing into the cave and blocking it off. All that was left of the tunnel was a thin crack between the two boulders, barely larger enough for Gollum himself to pass through. Surely she wouldn't be able to do the same.

A snarl from behind made her turn. The angry creature had leapt into the junction, growling fierce. Then its breathing slowed, its head slowly turned, and its huge blue eyes focussed on Snow, glinting with fury. Its face contorted again, and its panting accelerated once more.

"It's ours!" It hissed, "It's… OURS!"

And then Angry Gollum was rushing down the tunnel toward her.

Snow had no time to think. She turned back to the crack. No matter whether she could get through or not, she had no choice.

And so she shoved herself into the fissure, sideways so her shoulder-bells didn't catch. She pulled her head through, the rough boulders pulling at her hair and clothes as her traveller's corset followed. It was a tight squeeze, crushing her into a space barely the size of a hobbit, every movement attempting to rip through her skin and clothes. But, incredibly, she managed to pull her top half out the other side of the collapse.

And then her dress got caught on the rock, and she stumbled, spinning. Her back hit the ground hard, her head following. Her breath was knocked out of her as her arms flew onto the air, hands opening.

And the ring, clenched tight in her left hand since this chase started, sailed high into the air. Her eyes followed it as it rose, high into the small cavern, before hitting the ceiling and falling once more. In dazed from the fall, she could barely think about anything else. Despite the fact that it was what Gollum was after, despite the fact that she didn't even need nor want it, her hand reached out above her to stop its fall.

And then something miraculous happened. Her hand, outstretched, lay in the path of the ring as it descended, which is incredible in and of itself. But as the ring fell, the small thing fell right into Snow's middle finger. The circular hole in the golden thing fell right around her digit, nestling right into position on her hand.

And then the world changed.

The dark cave, lit only by the light coming through the crevice, was suddenly bright with blue-watery light. The rock walls began to shimmer, wave, like the ripples of a pond, flowing over every surface. **[1]**

Even Gollum was shimmering, as the creature went into a leap through the crevice.

Snow rolled to the side, her legs curling up and exiting the fissure, and fell into the wall of this slightly-wider tunnel. She held her breath, eyes wide, as Gollum landed in front of her. If he noticed her, she was dead. Her eyes refused to shut as Gollum's head turned.

But Gollum's eyes glossed over her and continued on, as if she wasn't there. His head turned and tossed, and heatedly surveyed the cave, and he yelled and screamed in fury, but he caught no sign of Snow.

Snow breathed a quiet sigh of relief as adrenalin left her body. That it when she noticed that the Gollum had seemed to slow down. In fact, everything had slowed, the world slipping into a slow scene. Gollum's continued cries were slow, and also muffled, as if from underwater. He was glowing, just as the rest of the world was, and the whole cave was lit up bright enough to see. Even as Snow began to stir, she felt the effects, her muscles responding more slowly, gravity seemingly acting on her less.

"THEIF!" Gollum's yell came. "WHITE!"

And as the creature began to head around the corner and out of sight, Snow stood to her feet. She looked down at her hands, only to see that, out of everything she could see, she was unaffected. She still moved slowly, but her skin did not glow or ripple.

But the ring. The golden right on her finger was glowing. Not with the bluish tint of the rest of the world, but a bright golden, like leaves did under the rising sun.

Snow then realised what had happened. The ring was glowing with magic light. The ring, shining upon her finger, was magical. With its power, she saw the world with clear eyes, and the world could not see her. It had made her invisible.

She had head of such things in the old tales she used to read. Magic artefacts, relics of the early ages of the world. Many had been used for evil at one point or another. All of them had been lost to time, scattered across the lands of Middle Earth, never to be found again. And yet, somehow, she had found one.

Carefully, all the same, she stepped after Gollum, watching as the small creature stopped in the middle of the tunnel, frantically looking around. Its angry eyes turned to fear, and it began muttering to itself as Snow approached.

"Curse it and crush it!" it hissed. "It STOLE it from us! It has it! It WEARS it! It SPOILS our Precious! GOLLUM, GOLLUM!"

It breathed, throat heaving, taking deep breath after deep breath before its eyes settled on the ground in thought.

Then it gasped.

"It wanted it!" it gasped. "It was after the Precious!"

Snow shook her head at the deluded creature. She had never wanted this trinket, as special as it turned out to be.

"It lied about being lost! It knew the way in! It knows the way out!" It realised, "White knows what the Precious can do, and it knows the way out."

No she didn't, but, curious, she kept listening. Gollum's breath hitched.

"It's off to the back-door. To the back-door it is!"

And then Gollum was off, racing down the tunnel, still talking to itself.

"Must catch it! It can't be seen, but can be heard! We will hears it, and BEATS IT! We must get the Precious, we must get it back! GOLLUM, GOLLUM!"

And so, Snow realised, the creature Gollum had set off for this "back-door". The way out. Snow's chance at escape. And so her footsteps fell in line with Gollum's, finally answering her bargain.

Whether she found herself on the Rivendell-side of the Misty Mountains or the far one, this was Snow's only bid for freedom.

* * *

High above the caves, at the edge of Goblintown, the Dwarves and the Wizard found themselves trapped. In front of them, where the other side of the bridge once was, stood the hideous Goblin King. And behind them, a hoard of angry goblins flocked in, coming to a halt behind the bridge, watching their king do as he would.

The Goblin King sneered over the dwarves, most of whom cowered behind Gandalf and fell back as far as they could, leaving only Thorin, Dwalin and Balin standing defiant alongside the wizard.

"You have nowhere to go from here, foolish Dwarves!" the King bellowed.

He lunged forward, staff swinging at those who headed the Company. Gandalf ducked back, falling into the Dwarves behind him, even as Thorin charged, yelling. With a swing of Orcrist, he knocked the staff to the side, and swung again. His smaller size gave him quicker reflexes, evident as he ducked under a grab from the other arm. But the Goblin King was ready for hi, and a raised foot sent the prince flying back into the rest of the Company.

Then it was Dwalin and Balin's turn. The staff and hammer moved as brothers, flying at the King. But they, too, were repelled, and the brothers fell back from a smack of the King's own weapon. Only Gandalf, pushed back up by the Dwarves behind him, was left ready to make a move.

The Goblin King scoffed at the old man with the walking stick.

"And what are YOU going to do, Wizard!?" he mocked.

Without batting an eye, the wizard's staff plunged into his face, and, with a cry, the Goblin King dropped his only means of defence. Gandalf stepped forward, and with a slash of the Foe Hammer, the goblin's bloated belly tore in two. A scream of pain escaped him, and he fell to his knees. The already broken bridge shuddered from the weight of his fall. The Company turned their heads to the wood, nervous of what could happen next.

Gandalf held up his staff and sword in hand in front of his adversary. The Goblin King quietened, and stilled, glancing at the silvery blade. With a startled nod, and a gulp, he spoke his final words.

"That'll do it."

Gandalf swung the sword, slicing through the blubbery mass on the goblin's chin, and the neck that lay behind it. With a death rattle, his eyes rolled back into his head, and his muscles gave way. The king's body fell, collapsing onto what was left of his chin, and he lay still. The Goblin King was dead.

But he did not stay still for long.

The collapsing weight of the Goblin King's corpse smashed through the bridge. The wooden surface tore apart and fell, taking the body with it into the abyss below. But that wasn't the only affect it had. The anchors holding the wood to the rock began to snap. The dwarves turned, startled by the sound of their doom revealing itself. Thorin could only yell a warning to his fellow dwarves at the last second.

"Everybody HOLD ON!"

All dwarves fell to the woodwork at precisely the moment that the bridge snapped away. And then the triple-decker bridge was falling, dwarves and wizard atop it, crashing down into the dark abyss.

Everyone was screaming. The wooden structure was not falling smoothly, bouncing and crashing against the constantly waving walls it had been attached too. It took all of their willpower to hold their grip, even as most of them found splinters biting into their fingers.

Gandalf hadn't had the time to find a grip. The wizard was floating above the falling bridge, staff pointed below him. With a shout, the end began to glow, and a magical shield began to form. With every bump into the wall, the bridge slowed in its descent, and Gandalf's staff pulled him with it, keeping pace with the falling, screaming, dwarves.

The chasm dove down barely more than a hundred metres. Within moments, the walls narrowed in on the fissure, clamping down on the bridge as it neared the bottom. It slowed down, but did not stop, and it crashed into what was left of the Goblin King, lying on the cave-floor. The lower floors crumpled into the top, slowing the dwarves above to a near stop. Their yelling ceased, and sighs of relief circled amongst them.

The wizard, on the other hand, held aloft by his magic, floated down beside them. He landed softly on his feet beside the wreckage, smiling at the shaken dwarves as they collected themselves and stood to their feet.

"Well," Bofur breathed, "THAT could've been worse!"

Then a screeching began to sound from above. All eyes turned to look up to the top of the fissure, to see hundreds, possibly a thousand goblins, climbing down toward them. The dwarves all shuddered and recoiled, jumping down to the rocky ground.

"There's too many!" Dwalin realised. "We can't fight them all at once!"

All eyes turned to Gandalf for guidance. His response was immediate.

"Only one thing will deter them!" He announced. "Daylight! Come! Quickly!"

Gandalf rushed down the length of the chasm, and the dwarves followed, hoping he knew the way to the outside world…

* * *

Gollum raced through the caves at a speed that made it hard for Snow to keep up. The creature was accustomed to running through these tunnels, while Snow was merely a trespasser, used to, if anything, flat ground and stairs more than the jagged and shifting and rising and falling surfaces in the caves. All the stones on the ground, the boulders jutting out of the walls, and the twisting turns, were not easy on Snow. But, luckily, her ring had slowed down time enough for her to see when something nasty was ahead.

Gollum hadn't stopped cursing the whole way to the back-door. Hissing and swaring, "curse it and crush it!", never halting in its stride as it ran through tunnel after tunnel. With every path it leapt into, ever attempt to jump onto something invisible, its words became more and more desperate.

Little did it know that the object of its ire had been following the whole way, hidden by the ring on her finger. Invisible, Snow's only fear was tripping and falling and making a noise. She didn't know if she could be heard with the ring, but she did not want to find out.

At long last, light! Proper, shining, sunlight! Gollum had run down the end of a tunnel and leapt into the next, where light was reflecting off the rock walls and into the passage it'd come from, where Snow still was. That's when Gollum, frantic by this point, stopped moving. Snow came to a silent halt behind it, as it yelled down the cave in the direction of the light.

"WAIT! WHITE!" It cried in desperation, "MY PRECIOUS! WAIT!"

It hacked up another cough, longer this time. Even for the cave-dweller, the "chase" had taken its toll.

Then it turned the other way, and suddenly jumped back into the passage. Snow froze, but to her relief, it had only hidden behind a boulder in the intersection, hiding from something coming from down the tunnel. Snow heard the hoard of footsteps, echoing closer. But she had nothing to worry about. She couldn't be seen.

"QUICKLY!"

But then she heard familiar voice, and soon enough, Gandalf's grey, pointy hat ran past the opening, followed by the thirteen dwarves she had been separated from, who knew how long ago.

"Gand—!" she began to call.

But then Gollum stirred at the sound. It turns out others COULD hear any sound made by the wearer of the ring. Snow stopped herself from finishing the wizard's name as the creature looked up, and she made sure not to make another noise. But she could not run to the company, for Gollum was in the way. And in her hesitance, the dwarves passed, leaving the caves behind and returning to the sunlight.

Snow let out a tired, silent sigh. She would have to make it out on her own then.

As the footsteps faded into the distance, Gollum, deciding what it had heard was nothing, poked its head beyond the boulder, staring into the golden exit. Seeing it distracted once more, Snow began to inch toward it.

And then Snow was faced with a decision that would change her course forever. The creature Gollum was all that stood between her and the back-door, the way out, freedom. If Gandalf and the company's presence at this exit meant anything, then this was on the east side of the Mountains, facing Greenwood and the Lonely Mountain. Facing away from home. But it was a way out.

And Gollum, the creature that had threatened her, stood in her way. It could kill her. It could eat her. It said that's what it would do. It was a menace. A PEST. And if any adventurers ever set foot here again, it could harm them too.

Under her notice, the hilt of her letter-opener had slipped into her hand, and drawn itself out of its sheath with a SHING. Gollum froze, startled at the noise. The blade levelled at Gollum's throat, aimed for a hit. One swing would be enough. Her arms pulled back and prepared for the attack, even as the creature slowly turned around.

But then Snow froze. Gollum was staring right through her, of course, at the empty cave that it saw in front of him. It could not see her, all he knew of that it had heard the sound of a sword. It was no threat to her. She had the advantage, the upper hand.

But something stopped her from taking the swing. Not the realisation that this would be her first kill. She hadn't even realised her chase through the caves had gotten her past that. No. It was something else. Something in it, no, HIS, eyes.

Gollum's eyes had curved into a sad shape. His expression crinkled into a lost expression of sadness, of someone who had lost everything. Alone, living in a cave, and now without his only prised possession. The loss of the ring was evident in his eyes. He was sad.

He WAS sad. A creature, barely even a hobbit anymore, living in a cave, scratching off of the scraps of goblins and fishes from a pool, barely seeing sunlight for who knew how many years. He was a sad little creature, destined for nothing.

But he was also sad because of what he had lost. His ring. Lost to the world he had lost forever. Lost to the creature who had betrayed him. Lost to Snow White.

And he himself was lost. Miserable, alone, and lost.

A sudden understanding, a pity, welled up in Snow's heart, for she had seen that despairing look before. On the faces of those who crumpled under the rule of her stepmother. On some of the maids who cleaned up after the Queen. And in the mirror, more times than she could count, before she had fallen into her rhythm of comfortable discomfort, of life being the same every day. Of the expected, and the simple. Fallen into her own sad life.

And then Gandalf's words, from days ago, came to her, and she now knew what he meant.

'_True courage is not knowing when to take a life, but when to spare one._'

She dropped her hands, her sword falling to her side. She stepped back, away from the poor creature she had almost murdered, and the tip of the blade clinked into the rocks behind her.

Gollum looked up, barely a glint of hope in his eyes. He knew now that she was there, that she had not escaped. That she had not fled into the over-world. But she was still hidden, the ring still beyond his reach. And the creature began to whimper where he sat.

"Why does it steal from us?" he wondered aloud. "The world is cruel. It HURTS us! We flees into the dark! Now we can't remember."

He glanced up to where Snow stood ahead of him, and she swore, in the moment, that he could see her.

"Why does White steal the Precious?" He asked.

After a moment of watching the sad thing, Snow sighed. This was no threat at all. He was just another broken creature, in a world of bad things.

And so she dropped the sword to the ground, and took off the ring.

The world stopped rippling, the blue hue vanished, and time returned to normal. Snow now stood, turning the plain golden ring over in her hands, looking down to Gollum, whose eyes lit up at her newly revealed presence.

And then, she finally spoke, answering him.

"I didn't mean to. I promise." She told him. "It fell out of your pocket in the tunnel. I was planning to return it to you."

She held the ring out to him.

"I don't want it."

Gollum stared at the thing in her hand, and a hand of his own lifted, approaching it. His Precious. For that, Snow realised, was what he called the ring.

But then he stopped, and his eyes returned to hers, curiously.

"Why was White in the tunnels?" he asked.

Snow let out a quiet "ha!".

"I don't know." She responded. "A dwarf prince and a wizard show up at the castle doorsteps asking for help, then orcs attack, and suddenly I'm wondering to who-knows-where. I don't belong out here; I'm just a scullery maid. But I can't go back. I guess I'm just… lost."

Gollum tilted his head.

"Lost?"

She nodded.

"I was lost long before I fell into your tunnels."

Both little people's heads lowered, looking to the ground. Snow in despair. Gollum in thought. The woman who had been drafted on a quest she felt she had no part in, lost in a cave she couldn't see in and a world she could not cope in. All she had were her wits, her sword, and the ring.

And so Gollum's hand continued to reach forward, reaching to hers.

And closed her fingers over the ring.

Snow's eyes snapped up as Gollum's hand retreated, her hand wound tight around the ring. Her mind had stopped, and she stared at the creature, confused. This was his one possession, the thing he had thought he had chased her from one end of the tunnels to the other to try to get back. And now he was letting her keep it. What?

"Wha- Why?" was the one word she could coherently form.

"White is on a dangerous quest." Gollum replied. "A mission that could change her world. It has already changed, hasn't it Precious?"

"But this is YOUR ring!"

Gollum nodded.

"White has long roads to follow. Dangerous roads, filled with… enemies." He said. "White needs the Precious to hide, so she can finish quest!"

And then his mouth contorted, trying to form a word he hadn't spoken in a long time.

"Eeeeeeeeyyyyyyyyooouu…. y-you need it more than… aaaaiiiieeee… ai… I do."

Snow's eyes grew wide. This creature had just done something it can't have done in many, many years. It had thought of others before it. It had given her its only possession, something that truly helped it down her in the dark, amongst goblins and the dark, and let her take it. He had changed.

And all she could do is watch as the creature Gollum slunk backward into the next tunnel, the tunnel that led out, and stepped aside to let her past. With one last look at her, Gollum turned back to the cave, and crawled away. **[2]**

As he vanished from her sight, Snow snapped out of her reverie. Picking up her sword, she stepped around the boulder into the tunnel, and immediately turned to see her way out. It wasn't so much as a door, but a cave-entrance, leading into the sunlight. Her breath hitched as she saw green for the first time in a while; grass, and trees, that bathed in a golden light. The sun was nowhere to be seen, which meant it must be sometime in the afternoon.

Before she left, she turned to glance once more at the creature she had spared, that had in the end saved her from being trapped in the caves, and inadvertently, saved her life. Gollum wasn't looking back, just slinking down into the tunnel.

But then he started, and jumped into a side tunnel, and Snow, too, blanched at the sight of a hoard of goblins rushing down to tunnel towards her. After the dwarves no doubt.

And she turned once more, and made a run for the exit, slipping the ring on as she did. She vanished from sight, but not many of the monsters behind her faltered in their mad strides, chasing her footsteps that she no longer cared to keep quiet.

She ran down that tunnel as if she had never run before, a new strength in her legs. And sure enough, at long last, she passed out of the cave-entrance, and her feet hit soft grass for the first time in days. But she did not stop, even as the goblins stopped at the entrance; with none of the dwarves or Snow in sight, they had no clue where in the forest to chase them. And they would not dare enter the sunlight, not far away.

But Snow kept running.

The first thing she noticed about the outside world, apart from the refreshing smell of pine and grass after the stuffy and smelly air of the caves, is that the first of the trees she ran between were bathed in shadow, as were many ahead. And if the golden sunlight shining off the leaves meant anything, it was that the day was soon to end, and the night to begin. And then other dark creatures would crawl, and even with the ring, she would be in trouble. She had to re-join the company.

And so she did not stop. She would not. She COULD not. Not at this point. Not now she was finally free of those wretched caves. Her steps quickened as she neared the first grasses that were lit up, and in her excitement, she ran and jumped off of a grassy boulder, and landed on her feet in the grass that gleaming in the sunlight. She smiled. NOW, she was out.

* * *

"Five… six… seven… eight…" Gandalf counted, as the company came to a stop in a clearing. "Bifur, Bofur, that's ten… Fili, Kili, twelve… and Bombur! That makes thirteen."

That was all the dwarves. All thirteen dwarves, panting and huffing and covered in bruises, but alive and accounted for in the clearing. Everyone who had set out from Rivendell without him was…

No… not everyone. The smallest and yet most important member of their company was missing.

"Where's Snow?" he asked. "Where's our burglar?"

At that, a number of the Dwarves looked at each other, some sheepishly, some horrified, and Thorin and Dwalin exasperated. Fili and Kili ran to the Mountian-facing edge of the clearing, shouting the maid's name.

Gandalf noticed the guilty look on Nori's face, and turned on him.

"WHERE IS SNOW WHITE!?"

Nori jumped at the shout, and, seeing the wizard's furious and worried eyes apon him, fumbled with an answer.

"I-I think I saw her slip away when the goblins first caught us!"

"What happened, exactly!?"

"I don't know!"

Beneath everyone's notice, her footsteps disguised by leaves on the wind, the invisible Snow White was among their presence. Racing down into the edge of the clearing, Snow had caught all of their yelling, their calls for her. Stopping just beyond the trees, still hidden by the Ring, she watched as the dwarves began to argue, agitated by her absence.

"Curse that maid girl!" Dwalin growled. "She nearly fell off the mountain in the storm! Now she's lost!?"

"I thought she was with Dori!"

"Don't blame ME!"

Gandalf stared around at the arguing Dwarves until he found a moment to bark at the.

"Well then we must go back!" he ordered, "We must find her!"

"We are NOT going back in there!"

"But what about Snow!?"

"I'll tell you what!" Thorin yelled, stepping to the middle of the clearing. "I say she saw her chance and she took it!"

Snow froze at his harsh words.

"She found a moment to abandon our company, and she did!"

"How can you be so sure of that!?" Gandalf questioned.

"She is a scullery maid, grown up with a stable job, and an easy life!" Thorin accused. "She has been dreaming of her warm castle, and her soft bed, ever since she left home!"

Snow slumped behind a tree. He may be wrong about the warm castle and the soft bed, but in many ways, he was right. She had been dreaming of being home in her old life for so long, wanting, wishing, dreaming of just a normal day. She, just as Thorin had said on the mountain some time ago, had no place amongst the hardy dwarves of the Company. Amongst Thorin and Dwalin and Bofur, even Kili.

"Mark my words:" Thorin finished, "We will not be seeing our janitor again."

Murmurs rippled amongst the assembled dwarves. She could barely hear them, muffled by the Ring as they were, but she could feel the betrayal in their voices.

Only Gandalf spoke up in anger against the Dwarf Prince's words.

"Is that all she is to you? Our janitor?"

But Thorin simply turned to the wizard and spoke his ultimatum:

"Face it, Gandalf. She is long gone!"

Gone. Lost. Two words that meant very similar things. Yes, she was lost. Somewhere on this journey, she had lost herself. Possibly the moment the orcs attacked Shireland Castle. She was all but a lowly scullery maid, out in the wilderness, with nowhere to go, no home, no end in sight. She had lost all she had to the goblins when they had caught them. Her travelling pack, her broom-pole. She had naught but her dress, her belt, her letter-opener, and Gollum's magic, golden Ring. She was lost, and alone.

And then she realised, she was not alone. She had been driven out of her home by the orcs, who had possibly been summoned to do the deed by the Queen herself. But that was not dissimilar to the fates of the Dwarves. They had been driven out of Erebor by its current resident. Now they were homeless travellers, trying to go home.

Home.

There was a reason to be out here after all.

And so she stepped around the tree, and took off the ring.

"No, she isn't."

All eyes turned at her sudden appearance, twelve pairs of eyes suddenly filled with surprise and relief. Sighs and chuckles rippled around the clearing, and smiles graced many faces when they saw their friend had not abandoned them.

"Snow White!" Gandalf exclaimed. "I have never been so glad to see anyone in my life!"

She nodded, a smile gracing her face as well.

"We'd given up on you!" Kili breathed.

"What in Middle Earth happened?" his brother asked.

"I fell into the caves!" she told them, "No light, no sound, no idea where I was! It took me hours to find Goblintown, and hours more to find the back-door!"

"But how did you get past the goblins?" Dwalin wondered.

She opened her mouth to tell them the tale of finding Gollum, the riddles in the dark, the chase, and how he mysteriously let her keep the Ring… but she didn't really know how to. How to tell that she had found a strange creature that had a magic Ring, that had tried to kill her? How to explain how he had just given her the ring when she told him her sad story? What to say?

"W-well…" she started. "Y-you know what Gandalf said! Maids can go unseen by most others, if we choose!"

She smiled mysteriously at the company, and rested her hands on her belt. But beneath everyone's notices, she carefully slipped the Ring into one of her belt-pockets as her hand came to a rest. That would remain her little secret.

Little did she spot Gandalf's silvery eyes follow the glinting gold into the leather pouch. But he didn't remark on it.

"And I never spoke a false word." He instead added. "There truly are remarkable creatures in this world, Snow White."

She glanced at him, wondering for a moment whether he was talking about Gollum. But she shrugged it off. Surely he didn't know about the creature, did he?

But Thorin alone was looking back and forth between the maid and the others, confused.

"No one is asking this:" he said, as his eyes met the maid's, "Why? Why did you, of all people, come back?"

Snow sighed. It was time she answered that herself.

"I know you doubt me, Thorin." She said. "I know you always have. And quite rightfully so. Here I am, a scullery maid, joining a quest such as this. I… suppose you should all know: I wasn't always a scullery maid. I was born the princess of Shireland, one of Dúnedain."

Murmurs rippled among the dwarves, and she briefly saw Gandalf, intrigued by her decision to reveal this.

"But then my step-mother became queen, and I wasn't anymore. I became a maid. And I worked, forced myself to enjoy the life I had been given. And then I was kicked out. So I joined the company. I must admit, in a way I do miss my life serving the Queen.

She smiled at the trees, the branches above the clearing.

"It may have been hard, it may have been the same everyday… but I miss the birds. And the gardens, and the village. The people. The green hills. The little rivers. And my friend. Elanor Gamgee."

And then she looked down to stare right at the dwarf Prince, who had been travelling so far for so long, and yet was, in many ways, still uptight and arrogant, as royals most usually are. Even her in a way.

"You see, that's where I belong. That, for me, was home." She told him. "And that's why I came back. You do don't have a home, and you haven't for so long. I think I can understand that now. Our homes were taken from us. But I will try to get yours back if I can. That is a promise."

And so all of the dwarves stood, watching her, humbled by her speech. The girl who had everything, but nothing, and now had less still. Lost and alone, dreaming of home. And now here she was, the adventuress, promising to help them return to their land, with barely a thought of her own wellbeing. Selfless.

Gandalf sighed, and smiled fondly at the young woman in front of him.

"The smallest of our company, and yet a heart as large as us all." He spoke. "Belladona would be proud."

And the princess-adventurer beamed at the wizard's praise, and as she stepped into the clearing proper, receiving claps on her shoulders from her friends, the dwarves, she no longer felt alone.

Not far away, on the nearby slopes of the Misty Mountains, a small army had formed up on the cliff-side. The wolf-like creatures had taken their secret paths through the maintains, safe from Stone Giants and away from the foul stench of the goblin tunnels, and now rallied up on the edge of the maintain-range, looking down on the forest below, and their quarry that now hid among them.

For riding these wargs were orcs, led by none other than their leader, Azog the Defiler.

The pale, Gundabad orc, growled down at the company, barely visible in the clearing. Then he turned to his small army of wargs and orcs.

"_Run them down!_" he ordered, "_Tear them to pieces! Spare none but the girl and Oakenshield!_"

And so the riderless wargs charged off the cliff, racing down the sheer rock, down to the forest, and begin the hunt.

And down in the clearing, the company of fifteen heard the howls of many wargs. Heads turned, and hands fell to weapons, as most of their faces lit with fear. Only the warriors, the princes, the wizard and the adventuress face steeled, ready to face these new foes.

Snow's raised her sword, the blade glowing blue. This time she would not be afraid. She would be ready.

"Out of the frying pan…" Thorin breathed.

"And into the fire. Run." Gandalf finished for him. "RUN!"

* * *

**[1] In the special features of the extended edition of 'The Fellowship of the Ring', Peter Jackson mentions two styles they could've gone with when making the effects seen when Frodo puts on the ring. In the end they went with fire, using a flicker effect to show that this isn't the normal world, which makes sense, because Sauron is a firey villain. But he also says they could've gone with water, a ripply effect. Due to the nature of this ring, as it's not the One Ring in this, I wanted to go with the different style.**

**[2] I've been waiting to write that scene ever since I started this story two years ago! I always pictured that Snow's influence to the story would change Gollum in some way. That's the magic of Snow White. How she can change the world around her with her presence. Creatures, beasts, people, and apparently Gollum. Her powers will start to ignite throughout the first half of 'The Desolation of Smaug', but this is our true first glimpse of it!**

**I hope this chapter is good! Mostly the same as the movie, but I certainly threw you a curveball with Gollum!**

**Before you go, gimme some love and check out these links:  
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**YouTube: www-.-youtube-.-com-/-user/RobsTimesFilms**

**Deviantart: toaaerrow-.-deviantart-.-net**

**Twitter: Toa_Aerrow**

**Thanks for reading! Aerrow out!**

**Next chapter: Ch18: The Pale Orc**


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